Finding Sanctuary
by magicite54
Summary: [FF6] Celes's ascension to generalship started with her death. Through the lost secrets of magic, she lives again--transformed. Now, Celes finds herself drawn to the path that Tina once walked on. Celes and Tina's story continues.
1. Necessary Evil

**STOP!!** The fic that follows is the third installment of theoretical prequels of the Final Fantasy VI storyline. Therefore, it is a must that you read them in order before starting with this one. Otherwise, the plot will contain holes for you throughout. The correct order is given below.

1.) The Terra Episode  
2.) The Celestial Rise  
**3.) Finding Sanctuary**

Necessary Evil

The Empire of Gestahl suffered plenty during the Terra Episode. The incident was promptly met with an interval of recuperation starting from within the ranks. But even in that intended period of recovery, a struggle was fought. Seen by the civilians of the Empire as another rebel attack, it was considered to be more audacious than the previous ones, if not more catastrophic.

The first reported attack was the sabotage of a Magitek reactor that killed a handful of people. The offender was caught and identified simply as Terra--a rebel magic-user. She escaped authorities through the help of unidentified accomplices, and managed to hijack a Magitek Armor in her attempt to break out of the Bronze Compound, killing approximately fifty people in under three minutes. The exact numbers were undisclosed to the public.

The Terra Episode started a chain reaction of events within the Empire. A new general was needed to temporarily replace the other who was injured during the attack. A power struggle within ensued, but with the help of a New Military Council formed by General Leo Cristophe, the imminent collapse of authorities was averted. A new general was appointed from the most unlikely of ranks. The new mantle of authority was given to Celes Chere--a former lieutenant with no battlefield experience. The whole army was shocked, to say the least, and those who vied for power silently grew resentful. 

During the Inauguration of General Celes Chere, an assassin--identified to be Arnold Beigeletter--attacked the general in front of hundreds of soldiers (including General Cristophe) with a dagger. The assassin, disguised as one of the cape-bearers, caught General Chere by surprise and was successful in driving the dagger through her plate armor and into her flesh. It was a mortal wound.

The assassin was brought down by a colonel by the name of Harold Llurd but was too late in saving the new general's life. General Chere died just seconds after the assassin was subdued.

The greatest minds of Vector rushed the lifeless body of the general to a highly-restricted complex, known as Magitek Lab Omega, to bring the general back to life through magical means. It was a hard battle in itself, which was victoriously concluded. General Chere lived again, and the preparation for retaliation against the rebels began.

**********

_Maranda: Day Thirteen of the Celestial Rise._

Though the village was on the map, it had no name. Perhaps it was because that the village itself started out as a remote farming community for Maranda. But that was so many years ago. The community soon turned into a remote outpost of minor trade because of its location. The community stood alone to the east of Maranda. More and more families settled there until the small community flourished into a small village that shared a single well in front of the town hall. A grove of trees hugged the town like a crescent moon would to its own shadow, so that where the crescent began and ended was the entrance to the town. 

The village sat peacefully alone in the plains. It was hard to believe that it served as an outpost for rebel operations. In fact, General Celes Chere did not buy the report. But whether or not it was true, was not the question. They had been given an order to _neutralize_ the threat. And General Chere was in charge of the task.

General Chere rode on a Magitek Armor--a formidable war machine that walked on two monstrous legs like a mythical beast of untold ferocity. It was the Imperial Military's grand creation that brought fear to her enemies. What was really special about the machines was not so much that it was a highly-technological achievement, but rather that it was an achievement brought about by the amalgamation of machine and magic.

The presence of such a machine in a quiet and small village such as the one that they now faced was considered overkill. And yet, four were dispatched for the mission. The first was manned by the general. The second, by Colonel Harold Llurd. The other two, by especially-trained lieutenants. With them was a company of Imperial foot soldiers.

The village was small enough for them to surround it in only a few minutes. The foot soldiers took their places behind the crescent of trees. Two Magitek Armors waited on the north of the village. The other two would be making their entrance through the front of the village. It was sunset. General Chere had chosen the time of the attack. She judged that it would serve her best with the shadows on her side. To Colonel Llurd, it was a ludicrous idea. The village had very little manpower to defend themselves from such a force. They needn't be so overcautious about their approach. But for his sake, Colonel Llurd had to concede to his commanding officer's decision.

"General, we are in position," hissed the radio device on General Chere's console.

"Very good. Signal the approach, Colonel. Remember… I don't want anybody getting away," General Chere commanded.

"Understood. Llurd out."

The lights from the Magitek Armors flared up. The foot soldiers set up in a wide arc saw the lights as the signal to advance. And so the circle of soldiers converged steadily towards the unsuspecting village. 

Very few people were about outside their houses. Being mainly a farming community, they had no need to be outside their houses. Sunset was usually their time of retirement. But the very few people who were outside were the first ones to see the incoming threat.

One of them ran inside the town hall and begun pulling the ropes that sounded the two bells. The alarm had been sounded. The others ran in their homes and closed their doors. The foot soldiers passed through the crescent of trees and emerged from it like a ghost would through a solid wall. There was no escape for the villagers. Two Magitek Armors were forced to crash through the trees. The ground trembled as the Armors lumbered towards the center of the town, watchful for hidden attackers.

General Chere smiled secretly, seeing as there was no active resistance to meet their force. The citizens have barricaded themselves inside their small houses. It was a futile gesture. Colonel Llurd spoke through a megaphone that he carried with him.

"Citizens of…" he began but stopped abruptly when he realized that he didn't even know the name of the small village. "Citizens of Maranda!" he reasserted. "This is the Imperial Military. By order of the Emperor Gestahl, this village is now under our direct control. Come out with your hands up, and no harm shall befall your pitiful village."

The people did not respond. Instead, the lights from inside the houses went out as if to resume their hiding. 

"How stupid do they think we are?" Colonel Llurd muttered. "You have been warned!" he said through the megaphone.

"Force them out of their houses!" General Chere ordered. The soldiers that surrounded the village gripped their swords tighter with their hands and stormed the house closest to them. Screams and shouts from the inside followed. From some of the houses, a struggle ensued. Some villagers even tried to make a run for it as soon as they broke down the door. They were summarily captured and cuffed. Yet, most of the villagers surrendered peaceably, much to General Chere's relief.

General Chere stood in front of the town hall and waited for the chaos around her to die down. The villagers were all cuffed and gathered in front of the town hall before her. It took a few minutes until finally, the task was done.

"General Chere, the prisoners have all been rounded up as commanded. What are your orders?" the soldier asked with a salute.

Celes looked at the great number of Maranda civilians on their knees in rows and columns. A few of them--those who fought and resisted--were wounded, bleeding, and dying. Women and children were among the numbers, frightened, crying, and pleading for mercy. The soldiers who kept them in check ignored their pleas heartlessly. Celes looked at them coldly.

"They're civilians!" she exclaimed in disgust. "Militia! Farmers with shovels and pitchforks! There is nothing to be gained from them. Your Intel was flawed!" she accused the colonel.

"I beg to differ, general," Llurd interjected. "Reports say that there are spies here. Rebels in hiding. And where rebels are allowed to hide, there should be rebel-sympathizers as well… perhaps all of them. I say we start executing two of them at a time until they give the rebels up to us! Unless, of course, you would rather risk letting the spies free," Llurd said the last sentence slyly. He was challenging his general.

Celes regarded his subordinate icily. But she retained her composure. "I've a better idea," Celes replied. She turned to her personal aide and gave him an order, "Jasom Keep, have the prisoners locked up in their town hall. Make sure all exits are secure from all sides."

Jasom Keep nodded and moved quickly, relaying her orders to the other soldiers. The soldiers keeping the prisoners in check started pushing and shoving the people inside their town hall. The choir of crying children grew louder still. The wails of their mothers joined the chorus. The men, however, were unusually calm and passive. Within a few more minutes the civilians were detained within the building. The doors and windows were closed and barred. 

Llurd frowned and objected, "General, your method is utterly ineffective! We have no time to keep them here as prisoners. We have a mission to accomplish. There is no time for us to wait for them to-"

"Burn it down!" Celes ordered her men.

Llurd's eyes widened in disbelief. "What?!"

"I agree with you, Colonel. We have no time to waste sorting them all out. Just kill them all… now. Order your Magitek Units to burn down the town hall. Low setting. Just enough to start the fire," Celes said casually. 

Llurd hesitated. He did not expect her to be so… heartlessly efficient.

"Are you going soft on me, Colonel?" she asked loudly for all the soldiers to hear.

Colonel Llurd flushed and choked. "N-not at all, General!"

"I'll meet you back at the base," Celes said, turning her Magitek Armor around. "And remember, Colonel, low setting. No explosions. I don't want any burning splinters ruining my hair," she said coldly.

Llurd was still amazed at the general's command. He didn't care about the innocent civilians of Maranda. But her standing order was completely out of character. It didn't make sense at all. It was not expected of her.

Shaking his head, he turned on his radio to relay his general's command.

"Ground units, move away from the town hall. Magitek Units, Ready fire bolts, low setting. Set the town hall ablaze from all sides on my mark." Llurd waited for his Magitek Knights to surround the town hall. He glanced back towards his general who was already at the exit of the town. 

The comm device on his Magitek Armor crackled to life. "Colonel, we are in position." 

"Very well. I repeat, fire bolt, low setting."

"Affirmative, Colonel. Ready and waiting."

"Burn it down!"

Four Magitek Armors shot fire beams at the town hall. The building was ablaze in an instant. Screams from within could be heard. The people inside tried to break through the doors and barred windows to no avail. Soon the screams were replaced with coughs. Time passed, and the walls collapsed at the same time, bringing down the roof of the building onto the civilians.

Llurd watched with satisfaction as there had been no reports of people escaping the burning rubble. He flicked his comm signal on again and dialed a private channel.

"General Chere, this is Colonel Llurd. Over."

"Report, Colonel."

"Mission accomplished, General. Over."

"Then stop dawdling. Move out!"

**********

_Retaliation--the necessary evil. _

_ This is the sort of action that the people of Vector have hungered for, and I had to carry it out. By tomorrow morning, everybody in Vector will know what happened here today. 'General Celes Chere torched a village in Maranda.' The headlines, however, will not permit such a long title. They will risk the inaccuracy and the exaggeration: 'Vector General torched Maranda.'_

But the people won't care. They will applaud me. The people just want to see somebody pay for the past aggressions against Vector. They don't really care who we target. It is such a disquieting concept of war. Punch a helpless stranger to vent your anger. Unjust… but it works. Torch a defenseless village in retaliation--it is unfortunately a necessary evil. I am general now. The military look to me. I cannot show them my weakness if I am to acquire their trust, their admiration, and their respect. I cannot show signs of hesitation when I give my orders. I must be decisive and efficient. 

And so I torched a village in Maranda. No time to interrogate them. No time to take them prisoners. All men, women, and children were rounded up like cattle, locked up in their town hall, and set aflame...by my order. It's hard to believe that it has come to this. And to think that all I wanted to do was to find a stolen name.

Forgive me. This must be confusing for you. Let me start this story from the beginning… 

**********  
**********  
**********

Author's Note:

For those of you who ignored the warning at the top of the page and read through this chapter without reading the two other fics, it's not too late! Here is the order again...

1.) The Terra Episode  
2.) The Celestial Rise  
**3.) Finding Sanctuary**

So what do you think? For those of you who have visited my website, you will notice that this is the finalized teaser. It still doesn't answer a lot, does it? Don't worry. Chapter two is on its way soon.


	2. Cleanup by Fire

**Cleanup by Fire**

The abandoned warehouse used to be a meat-packing plant. It stood alone in the block like a ward for the living and was located three miles from the Bronze Compound. Cloying scent emanating from within indicated to everybody outside the unsanitary condition of the building. It should have been demolished long ago, but the city engineer never got around to it. The paperwork had been lost in the heap of the forgotten. It was a monumental lure for rodents and other small animals that plagued the public.

The building, apparently, invited more than plague carriers. According to Vector Intelligence, the building was being utilized by the rebels as their primary base of operations within Vector. The Vector Local Peacekeepers surrounded the building and made sure that no one left, entered, or exited it. The streets have been evacuated. In the middle of the day, the sun bore down on the peacekeepers as they waited for the higher authorities.

Jennina Stromsburg was the Chief of Police. Twenty years in the job and she was still as strong as ever. Her local force kept the peace in the immediate area around the Bronze Compound unfailingly. Gang lords and petty crooks alike loathed and feared her. She was married to her job and wasted no time during missions and crackdowns. She would've fared well in the military, but her devotion was to the law-abiding civilians. Being a peacekeeper was the closest to the civilians as she could get. The local militia looked up to her with respect and reverence. She was their mentor and leader--warm and sympathetic to the innocent, cold and harsh to the guilty.

Stromsburg checked the time again.

"Blast it! What's taking them so long? The criminals have probably barricaded everything by now. So much for the element of surprise," she complained.

"Last word was that they were 'moving out,' ma'am," Tomyn, the peacekeeper in training, said.

"We could've taken care of this situation ourselves just fine considering--"

The ground trembled slightly at the coming of a Magitek Armor. All looked to the direction of the metal mammoth. It lumbered down the street towards the congregated local force outside the meat-packing plant, escorted by military ground troops armed to the teeth. The military force consisted of a Magitek Unit and a squad of well-trained military soldiers.

"What in Terrae are these army blockheads doing?" she exclaimed in growing anger. Stromsburg ran up to the marching military force and stood in the way of the Magitek Unit waving her arms in the air, trying to call the attention of the rider. "Stop! Stop, I say!"

The Unit halted ten feet in front of her and went in standby. The rider stood up from his comfortable seat and lifted up his visor.

"What is the meaning of this? Identify your self!" demanded Colonel Bramon Ranger.

"I am Jennina Stromsburg," she started, "Chief of Police! And I _demand_ to know what you're doing with this monstrosity in a highly-populated residential area!"

"Demand?" Colonel Ranger chuckled, amused. "I owe you no explanation, woman! Now, stand aside, and let us take over--"

"Take over the situation if you like, _mister._ But you are in grievous violation of the local safety laws of Vector. You are not to operate that _ thing_ in this area!"

"My name is Colonel Bramon Ranger, servant of his Great Lord, the Emperor--"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah! I know who you are, and I know who you serve, too. It just so happens that I serve the same emperor as you do. What a coincidence!"

"You mock me, woman?" Colonel Ranger asked, infuriated. "Get out of my way, and give your report, as you were ordered to by the Intelligence Office!"

"As soon as you power that thing down!" shouted Stromsburg, holding her ground.

"I don't need your report. Remove her!" Colonel Llurd commanded his ground units. Two soldiers at the front of the formation, stepped forward and grabbed her by the arms. Stromsburg struggled from their grasp, but it was futile. They forced her to the side street where she was shoved to the ground. The local peacekeepers rushed to her and coldly eyed the military personnel. "You're lucky that I have no time to see to your arrest for obstructing my mission, _Mrs. Stromsburg_. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a rebel base of operations to demolish." 

Colonel Ranger signaled for his men to continue the march. Stromsburg picked herself up and dusted her peacekeeper uniform. 

"Are you all right, ma'am?" Tomyn asked.

"Just fine, Tomyn," she said through gritted teeth. She watched the hulking war machine approach the building.

"Ma'am, if they really plan to demolish that building, the immediate buildings will be in danger. We have not evacuated them," reported Tomyn.

Stromsburg grinned. "Don't worry. I doubt that the fool will ever get to use his direct approach on that building."

"Oh?" Tomyn raised his brows in curiosity. "Why not?"

"Watch," she said simply.

The Magitek Unit crossed the corrugated chain-link fence that marked the outer boundaries of the meat-packing plant. The military force now marched across the spacious lot of pavement in front of the building itself. As soon as the Magitek Armor reached the center of the paved lot, the ground shook underneath them. The ground rumbled and caved in from under them sending the heavy Magitek Armor and the foot escorts down into the sewers of the meat-packing plant.

Shouts emanated from the hole. The loudest belonged to Colonel Ranger. The peacekeepers cheered and laughed at the bungling display. Jennina Stromsburg received the greatest satisfaction one could ever acquire from the sight alone.

She approached the hole carefully. Her peacekeepers followed her. They surrounded the hole and looked down below. They spotted the soldiers trying to get a huge piece of the broken pavement off the top of the Magitek Armor. Colonel Ranger seemed to be stuck underneath it. The sight was more hilarious than watching the Armor sink down to the bottom. Colonel Ranger's head stuck out through a tight space like a turtle. His face was red with anger and embarrassment. His men tried in vain to get the block off carefully to no avail.

Stromsburg's mocking voice cut through his angry exhaust. "I'm ready to give my report now, sir. The people inside seemed to have barricaded themselves real well. The windows and doors had been shut. We could not gather intelligence from where we stood. So we acquired the blueprints from the city engineer and found out that the building used to have these massive sewer ducts. If only we could locate the entrance to these ducts we could--oh! It looks like you've found it already! Good job, sir!" Stromsburg finished with a bright sardonic smile. Her peacekeepers sneered and laughed loudly. "I'll be pulling my boys out of the area now, Colonel. It looks like you've got everything under control."

"Stromsburg, I order you to assist in--"

"I do not take orders from you, Colonel. Vector Intelligence ordered a transfer of jurisdiction--_not _compliance," she answered smugly. 

"I will have your--"

"I can, however, radio Vector Intelligence Office and tell them what happened. I'm sure they'll send… _backup._ I'll be sure to give them the details of what happened, sir," she added. The peacekeepers doubled over, laughing.

The colonel's eyes went wide in fright. The thought of the entire Army hearing about what happened horrified him. He would not have it. "Stop! Wait!" he shouted. "There is no need for that. We can take care of things just fine," Ranger lied, sounding desperate. 

"Well, then in that case, we'll all just head home now. Good luck on your mission, colonel."

"Wait!"

"Yeeees?" Stromsburg replied with a contemptuous musical voice of mockery.

"We… um… require assistance," said the colonel. His voice seemed to have trailed off at the end of the sentence.

Stromsburg leaned closer and inclined her head. "What was that, Colonel? I didn't seem to catch that."

"We need help!" he yelled out loudly. His voice echoed through the massive ducts.

"Oh," she exclaimed, "So you _do_ want me to call for backup then?" she asked, still carrying with her tone of ridicule.

"You damn well know what I meant to say by that! Now are you going to--"

Stromsburg finally dropped the pretense and cut right to the point. 

"Beg."

"What?!"

"Beg, Colonel. We are the only ones out here who know what's going on… and I'm sure you'd like us to keep it that way. Now beg!"

Colonel Ranger's face was redder than ever. The soldiers trying to get him out all thought that his head seemed to radiate heat but soon discovered that it was the warm air wafting through the ducts, bringing with it the awful smell of decay. It became more unbearable for them all every second.

Colonel Ranger sputtered in anger but soon gave up. His dignity has already been compromised. What was left to do could be filed under 'Damage Control.' Colonel Ranger summoned up his courage by taking a deep breath that almost made him gag (which would've made things worse as he pictured himself, stuck under a rock with the smell of his own vomit on his uniform). 

"Mrs. Stromsburg--"

"Chief of Police, Stromsburg," she corrected, "and it wouldn't hurt to add a couple of _nice_ adjectives in that sentence, sir."

Colonel Ranger sighed and continued, "Chief of Police, Stromsburg. I _beg_ you and your _most capable and disciplined _men for assistance."

Stromsburg smiled.

"Well that wasn't so hard now, was it, _hon_?" she said, flashing a bright smile. "Now let's talk conditions."

"What?! You are _so_ pushing your luck--"

"You will _not_ use that Magitek Unit during this mission. It's too dangerous. Innocent _Vectorian _civilians could get hurt. It's my duty to protect them. It's your duty to remove the threat. It's all I ask!" she interrupted.

"You got it!" Colonel Ranger yelled back. It was pretty much useless in its current situation, anyway.

"Oh, and I want one thousand kirians deposited to my bank account after the mission, sir," she added as an afterthought.

"What?!" he exclaimed. "Now you've really gone mad! How is money a part of _ our duty_ to serve the Empire?!"

"It's not, _hon_. But I'm sure it's your _personal obligation_ to keep us silent about this… _embarrassing_ display," she said with a grin. "What's a thousand kirians to a rich man like you, hon?"

Colonel Ranger knew that it was nothing to him. 

Another wave of hot air blew from the ducts carrying with it the most sickening smell yet. The soldiers coughed and gagged. Colonel Ranger, in his fit of rage coughed and vomited all over himself. He was helplessly stuck. He spat and cursed a chain of expletives concocted from Ifrit's favorite abyss.

"Better make that _two thousand_ kirians_._"

**********

Colonel Ranger's troops traveled the maze-like ducts to a barricaded opening. According to the old blueprint that Stromsburg had provided them, the barricade was the last obstacle that they had to get through. The Colonel and his men were at the peak of their revulsion. The masks that the Chief of Police had provided worked to supply them with fresher air, but the ankle-deep muck that they had to wade through was terrible. At the opening of the ducts outside of the building, it was pretty dry. But as they got close to the building's underground entrance, the puddle of muck turned into a stream of cloying substance that penetrated their uniforms and seeped into their boots. They made a squishing sound with every step they took and a shudder of nausea.

The barricade was made of wood. It was old and rotten. It was an important indication that the rebels inside weren't counting on anyone infiltrating their base from under. Colonel Ranger drew his sword and started slashing the rotted wood apart until the opening was big enough for his men to get through.

He was the first to step into it, flashing his electric lamp ahead of him. They reached dry land, much to their relief. The colonel ordered his men to remove their boots and drain the muck out. When this was done they proceeded.

Beyond the duct was a cold corridor. Cooler air drifted through it, still carrying the smell of disease. The ground was dry. Roaches skittered aimlessly. Rodents scurried away, disappearing into holes on the walls. The soldiers had no doubt that a bite from the rodents would inflict upon them serious illnesses. Again, they were glad that the lowly residents left them alone. 

After a few more yards, the soldiers came upon the first vertical access to the upper floor. It was a simple metal ladder with rusted rungs indicating that nobody had used it for years. The ladder led up to a covered manhole. He examined the manhole cover and frowned. It was fused and rusted shut. Though, it would not be a problem opening it through countless means, he was hesitant to do so because of the noise that they would be making in the attempts. Ranger looked ahead to the rest of the horizontal access and signaled for his men to keep on moving. Hopefully, there were more ladders leading up. 

Ranger passed by three other ladders with the same rusted obstacles. He was beginning to think that taking the underground path was a big mistake when the corridor ended with a narrow, metal, spiral staircase leading up. They took the stairs slowly as it groaned with every step they took. The last thing they needed during the mission was another unfortunate fall. The stairs took them two floors up, bypassing the ground floor. The landing on top was solid enough for them to stand on without worrying. A lone door, unlocked and ajar, stood before them, inviting. Ranger made another deliberate signal with his fingers. From then on, they were to move extra carefully. 

The door took them straight to the second floor planks, along the four walls of the building, overlooking the non-functional meat-packing machinery below. There were conveyor belts and boxes that no longer moved. The machines that were supposed to be constantly oiled were all rusted and useless. Spiders made comfortable nests in them. A layer of dust clung to almost everything they saw in the little light that was allowed through the cracks on the roof and slight allowances of the barricaded windows. There was nothing out of the ordinary about the inside of the plant other than the fact that it was already defunct. There were no signs of life besides the critters. There were no signs of recent human activities. 

Ranger spotted a ladder close by. He slid down the ladder quietly, and the others followed. They drew their swords as soon as they hit the landing though they were now skeptical about the mission. 

_Perhaps the rebels had already escaped, _he thought._ If so, then there should still be--_

Traces of booted footprints were clearly imprinted on the filthy floor of the plant, against dust and the crusted blood of the slaughtered animals. There seemed to have been a considerable number of people from the looks of it. Perhaps as many as their number. Perhaps a bit more. 

The soldiers noticed the footprints, too. Their alertness grew sharper as their eyes became accustomed to the dim light. Ranger noticed that the footprints seemed to converge to a particular room beyond a huge metal door of what used to be a walk-in freezer. Ranger and his men opened the thick metal door with much difficulty. Prevailing over rust and corrosion, the door gaped open. Fresher air drifted from the inside. Ranger held the lamp up, but it did not help him much. The inside of the freezer was bigger than they had expected.

Ranger walked to the closest wall and found a fuse box. The box had been recently restored. On the floor, closest to the fuse box was a small package of light bulbs--all new. Ranger, without thinking, pulled down a lever sticking out of the fuse box. Light flooded not only the inside of the old freezer but the entire building. It was bright as day inside. The startled soldiers looked around them in alarm with their swords in front of them. The ventilation fans came alive from everywhere. The sudden droning noise was sure to have alerted any rebel who might've been sleeping, but after a few seconds without hostile contact, Ranger was fully convinced that the rebels have long deserted the place. They were too late. The only thing they could do now was collect information from the scene.

"Remove the barricades on the doors, and contact Vector Intelligence," he ordered. "Tell them we came too late. Somehow we'll put the blame on Vector police for not successfully securing the place," he muttered vengefully.

Two men started work on the barricaded doors by tossing aside the stacked crates.

"Search the place for papers, plans, weapons, names… anything of the sort!" Ranger barked.

The soldiers spread around and started their work. Ranger looked back to the first object that didn't belong--the box of light bulbs--and noticed for the first time an Imperial insignia on the top.

_Factory-grade military supply! What in the world is going on here?_

Ranger checked the fuse box again. On the cover, it had the military insignia, too. The parts were made from within Vector Compound. He opened the fuse box and saw another lever inside. He pulled it up to see what it did. The response was automatic. A conveyor belt activated from nearby. It seemed to be coming from a hole in the wall, possibly from the docking area outside. 

At first, there was nothing out of the ordinary about it. Seconds later, a black, zipped up, body bag emerged from the hole. 

"Alert!" Ranger yelled, calling the attention of his soldiers. They all converged to where he was with their swords drawn. The two men who were trying to remove the barricade off the front entrance joined them without completing their task. The exits remained blocked.

The bag was moving. Somebody was inside, alive and struggling to get out. The voice was muffled.

"Secure it!" Ranger yelled. Four soldiers lifted the bag from the conveyor belt and carefully laid it on the floor. Ranger drew his knife, and cut the bag open. The soldiers had their swords ready to impale whoever was inside, just in case. The bagged man kicked and struggled. He was masked and bound by strong cords of rope. The soldiers held the man down.

"Don't move! You are under arrest. Damn it! Stop your futile struggling so I can get that mask off your head!"

Ranger finally managed to do so. What followed next were gasps from everybody. The man was Colonel Blaey. His mouth was gagged. He was terror-stricken--panicking.

"Blaey! What in blazes are you doing here? What happened to you?"

"Sir! There's more coming from the chute!" reported a soldier.

"Get them all!"

Ranger removed the gag from Blaey's mouth first. Blaey started yelling, "Cut the ropes! Quickly!"

"I will! Calm down, and stop struggling!"

The other soldiers were busy with the other bags. Cutting them open revealed Imperial soldiers whom they all assumed to be Colonel Blaey's own men.

"What are you doing here, Saric? Where are the rebels?!" Ranger asked.

"Cut me loose!" Blaey screamed. "Free my men, and get out of the building!"

"What on Terrae is going on, Blaey?"

"It's a trap! Get out of the building!"

The lights went out suddenly. With their eyes accustomed to the bright light, they were now as blind as bats. The dim light that previously helped them before they turned on the lights did nothing for them any longer. It would take time for their eyes to regain focus in the dark. Finding their way out of the building without stumbling onto anything was impossible. Impossible or not, everybody tried, especially Blaey himself.

A huge explosion swallowed everything within with its rapidly-consuming flames. All life within died at the same instant, including the rodents and the roaches. The diseases that thrived on every surface were eradicated, as well, in the intense heat.

************

Colonel Harold Llurd stood atop a residential building, overlooking the burning meat-packing plant from a safe distance. A tear escaped the lower lid of his right eye. He felt no urge to wipe it off. He was alone… or so he thought.

"It gets easier the more you do it," said a familiar voice from behind him.

Llurd was not expecting Tayan, but his arrival did not startle him. Llurd kept his eyes on the burning building. "I have no need of consolations, Tayan. Tell your master that the deed is done." Llurd dropped a rectangular device on the ground. It had a red button on it.

"My master already knows," Tayan said. "But whom should I say pressed the red button first?"

Llurd puzzled over what he meant by that. Turning around he saw the Fanatic waving a similar device that he had just dropped. He knew that it served the same purpose as his.

"Two triggers? You didn't think that I'd do it, did you?" Llurd asked, resentfully.

Tayan laughed. "Relax, Harold. It's nothing personal. My master does not completely trust anybody outside our Cult." He walked beside Llurd and stared into the ravaged building. "Reports will say that it was a trap planned by the rebels. That is how the citizens of Vector will come to know of this incident. Now that the two colonels are out of the way, the burden of rooting out the rebels now falls onto General Chere."

"And what of me?"

"You will assist her," Tayan said slyly. "That is your next mission."


	3. Day Seven

**Day Seven**

Personal Log of Lady Celes Chere, General of Vector.

Day Seven of the Celestial Rise.

So many things have happened since my return into this tortured world. So many things seem different though I've only been gone for less than an hour. Things stayed the way they were when I left. And yet I see them differently now upon my return. For it was not the people and things around that have changed--I have changed. 

I'm more aware now. More observant. More cautious. Less naïve. Less trusting. Less gullible. My eyes have been opened to the world that I've always lived in. And what do I see before me in this new-found clarity? I see that I do not see all. 

I see people past their smiles, past their actions--despite their actions. I can easily detect lies, though I cannot identify them. I notice the slightest hesitation, though I do not know what the reasons behind them are. I'm no mind-reader, though my mind's been opened up to a higher state of awareness.

I see the questions that I should've been asking when Leo approached me that day. I see that he has lied to me so that I would 'take up the task' for the good of the Empire, when in fact, the Empire is not in any danger. And even if it were, the Empire would have no need of my… 'example.' 

This was, therefore, how I've come to the conclusion that my promotion holds no meaning to Imperial Military's reformation. I was never to take part in a Grand Scheme to purge the Empire of its dregs. Instead, a conspiracy has placed me at its center. 

I see that I cannot fully trust anybody. Not my superiors. Not my friends. At least, not fully. I see that I am truly alone at a marionette's stage, dancing as the conspirators tug at the strings. But it would seem that I have more than one puppet master. The strings that tug at me, forcing me to move, are not coordinated. One side wants me to be on center stage, the other, off the stage. One side assists me. The other, hinders me. Both sides want me alive. Both sides want full control of me. Who? Why?

This isn't about the Empire. This is about me. They've put me on stage to perform, thinking that I will remain oblivious to the puppeteers. But I intend to turn the tides. I shall play the role that was given me. I shall dance for the audience until I get their admiration. And then, the surprise will belong to the puppeteers when they find out that their strings have been cut, and their marionette dances freely.

But the show is not without great irony. When one cannot trust peers, one must turn to strangers, because the foes who bare their fangs when they smile are more dangerous than those who hide them in their contemptuous frowns.

Tonight, I shall meet with the one who calls herself Guardian. Friend? Foe? I shall find out with the same eyes that saw past smiles and ears that heard past lies.

End of personal log. 

**********

The path was lit, literally and figuratively speaking. The instructions were succinct. The directions were clearly marked. I stood outside the Great Library of Vector under the rain across the street. Only the shadow of the alley was my cover. Walking three miles under the cloak of disguise allowed me to elude guards--my own personal bodyguards. Why? I did not yet know. But the contact was very clear yet mysterious: Come alone. Trust no one. Travel under the cover of rain.

A man exited the library through its double doors. Jidooran, by the looks of his clothes. Tall. Long, silver hair--I've seen him before. He owned an airship and did transport jobs for the Empire.

Setzer Gabianni. I remembered his name. We've never met. I just heard his name spoken long time ago by my captain. Why did I remember his name so easily now? He was nobody special then. Why was his name marked so clearly in my head?

He looked disdainfully at the rain. Impatient man. He did not wait for it to stop or calm a bit. Strange it was for a gambler to be in a public library at this time of night rather than a bar. I shall take note of this, but for now I must be prompt; my contact waited inside.

I stepped inside the warm vestibule of the library. Further inside, the reception personnel looked at me with curiosity, wincing at the sight of a rain-soaked patron. I wondered for a moment if she would allow me inside in my present condition, but I quickly remembered that that would not be a problem. I could identify myself easily enough.

"How may I help you tonight?" she politely asked with a smile--a tired smile. Routine and nothing more.

I pulled out my identification card that I wore as a necklace and handed it to her. Her eyes widened in curiosity as she took it from my hand. She swiped the card on a slot connected to her computer screen. Her screen flashed the Empire's Insignia followed by my identification.

"Lady Chere!" she almost exclaimed loudly.

I pressed my finger on my lips. "I'm on an official investigation of this building. Go about your business as usual. Pretend that I am not here," I instructed.

"Of course, Lady Chere," she answered promptly with an understanding nod.

"Computer Fifty-four please."

"Right this way, ma'am."

The computer room provided scholars with quick access to cataloged information. At this time of night only one other patron was present. He was on Computer One, first corner, within sight. I shouldn't have problems keeping an eye on him. Computer Fifty-four was situated at the center of the rows and columns of one hundred computers. It looked pretty normal from where I stood.

"Should you need anything else, ma'am, do not hesitate to call," said the librarian. "Something to dry yourself with, perhaps?" she offered with a smile--warm, polite and reverent this time.

"That won't be necessary," I answered, and then she left me alone with a bow.

I examined the computer. A headset and a small microphone were set up already unlike the others. After glancing around I wore the headset.

"I am here," I whispered into the microphone. 

The screen changed immediately.

**Please wait…**

And so I did. The man from the corner computer became restless. He quickly gathered all his books and left, muttering something about unreliable machines. Then I noticed that all the computer screens, including mine, were flashing: ** Error.**

When the man had left the computer room, a voice spoke.

"Greetings, Celes Chere. I am glad that you could make it."

The voice was a feminine voice but artificial.

"I did so at great risk. You will now identify yourself," I answered in a no-nonsense tone of voice.

"I am called Guardian. It was I who contacted you previously with the warnings."

"Indeed. Do you have a real voice? Better yet, do you have a real name, Guardian?"

"Guardian is my name, and, yes, I have a real voice. But for my safety, and yours, I shall use my present means of communication."

"Very well. You have much to explain, Guardian. You've been sending me warnings electronically, and yet, they have been completely untraceable. Why is that?"

"I am capable of bypassing Vector's security systems from many locations as well as eluding known intruder-detection algorithms."

"So you have access to the systems?"

"Affirmative," Guardian answered in the dead electronic voice. I was starting to have a feeling that this was all a joke. Why would somebody admit to that? 

"Why do I get the feeling that you're not about to tell me how you do it?"

"Do you also get the feeling that _that_ is not important?"

"No. I am a very curious person, Guardian. It is my job."

"Which job is it that you speak of, Celes? Your job as a general to rid the Empire of rebel operatives? Or your job as a human being to ensure your safety and security?"

"That is for me to know, Guardian."

"Well said. But the fact that you have risked coming here tells me that you are willing to listen and believe to a certain degree. Perhaps I should begin."

"Please do."

"You know that you are being kept in the dark about many things. You know that you have been lied to by the very Empire that you have sworn to protect. You do not know why. You do not know how to obtain these answers without rousing suspicions," she said. Her voice was so void of emotion that it almost felt like I was talking to my subconscious thoughts--thoughts that weren't supposed to have a voice. I suppose the feeling was prevalent because the truth in her words was accurate. "I know why. I know the answers to all your questions and more. I know the answers to the questions you haven't even begun to ask yet. I have the information you seek. I have the solutions you search for."

"What will I owe you in return for these _answers_?"

"Errands."

"Treacherous, no doubt."

"Not greater than the treachery that your very own allegiance is secretly inflicting on you."

"Still treacherous, nonetheless," I said, more as a reminder to my self. A cautionary note to remind me that though Guardian was attempting to identify with me as an ally, she was still very much a stranger.

"You said so yourself, Celes. This is no longer about the Empire. It's all about you now."

"When did you hear me say that?!" I asked. My voice echoed in the empty room. The surprising statement of hers made me forget that I was still in a public library. Static sound replaced the electronic voice. The screen went blank. My screen only. The console was dead.

"Guardian?" I whispered. It didn't look like she was going to respond again. I didn't waste my time to try again. I gave her a chance, and she forfeited.

I took off the headset and started to leave the library. As I passed by the front desk, the librarian called out my name. I turned around and saw her going around her desk carrying a small package.

"You are forgetting this," she said, holding up the package. "We've been holding it for you as requested."

I had no recollection of such a request.

"Of course!" I played along. "When did I make the request again?"

"Seven days ago, ma'am."

I took the package from her and left the building. It had stopped raining. That should make it easier for me to sneak back into the Bronze Compound without alerting the guards of my unreported activities. I cradled the package in my arms and started my way back.

Seven days. I made no such request seven days ago. Seven days ago, I was introduced to the Empire military as the new general. Seven days ago, I died to an assassin with a personal vendetta. Seven days ago, I lived again.

**********  
**********  
**********

**Author's Notes:**

I realize that I started the first two chapters with explosions, and stuff burning, and people dying. But **you know** that I cannot keep that up for the entire fic. I have to reserve a huge portion of Vector for the Espers to burn down when they bust outta that sealed gate, and Imperial soldiers for the heroes to kill. So I hope that the following lull won't destroy your reading momentum. =)

Thanks for the good (_and flattering_) reviews so far. Although, I'm kinda disappointed that nobody's flamed me yet about the torching of Maranda (**CELES**: _Just a small village in Maranda!_) And you call yourselves Celes fans! =P


	4. Some Secrets Won't Keep

**Some Secrets Won't Keep**

_It is undeniable. The signs are clear. The time has come. _

And where am I now? Here in the comforts of Science's oasis, working under the most power-hungry nation in the world… and I am aiding them. After many years of breakthroughs and discoveries, I am still as spineless as I was back then when I started. I should've taken her away from them when I had the chance.

But, of course, that was the problem. Did I really have the chance back then? They watched my every move like a hawk. The Emperor and Kefka. I was right to be afraid, I suppose. But it does not excuse me for the crimes I've inflicted upon her. 

Woe to my already guilty conscience! I shall be damned forever. Celes will never forgive me for the things I've done. And she will loathe me for the things I've failed to do.

Cid del Norte Marguez stared into the gaping incinerator. The roaring fire within warmed his body. In his hand, he held Dr. Deregasi's written reports of Celes's recovery. He had just finished reading them. He was glad that she was alive again. Healthy both in mind and body. But not normal. He's had misgivings about the whole thing. Celes was alive, but she was not safe. He would have to report directly to the Emperor about the whole thing and tell him his findings. He would have to tell him that… the time has come. 

_And Kefka…_ _May the Devil take me instead! That is, of course, if he weren't the Devil himself._ _They will find out about Celes sooner or later. They may already know! But just in case… I have to delay._

Cid looked at the reports in his hand again. The fire should consume it within a matter of seconds, and that should buy him a couple of days, at least. He could say that he lost it, and he would have to examine Celes again. He could say that--

"It looks like I got here just in time!"

Cid turned around. The voice startled him. Kefka was grinning at him, eyeing the report in his hand. 

"It's not what you think, Kefka!" Cid began. He was never good at lying to Kefka. Kefka could see through him quite easily.

Kefka frowned and extended his arm. "Hand me the report, professor."

Cid hesitated. He was trying to come up with a plan, but he knew deep inside that any plan would simply fail. He was too afraid, and it was all too late.

Cid gave the report to Kefka with a defeated sigh. Hanging his head in shame of himself, he leaned against the closest wall, and let himself slide down to a crouch like a drunkard on the streets. He buried his face in his hands as Kefka read the report.

"'Stamina, off the charts… Sensory perception, above normal… stress limit, unknown.' These are all very interesting, professor!" Kefka said, turning the page. "Hmm... 'no change in physical strength or body mass, and yet her body seems to draw enough energy to be strenuously active for an indefinite period of time. Source of energy is unknown.'" Kefka turned the page again. "'Motor skills improved by fifty percent of average. Mental capacity by one hundred percent. Brain function by sixty-five percent.' Congratulations, Cid! Money spent in genetic engineering surely paid off. And, oh! Now we get to the good stuff! 'Magical infusion process received: Safe, and Heal. All successful with no recognizable anomalous readings. Next scheduled infusion process: Ice. On the ninth day of the Celestial Rise.'"

Kefka finished reading the highlighted parts of the report. He closed the folder and paced slowly in front of Cid. "You were going to burn the documents before I even had the chance to see it?" Cid did not move. No answer was needed. Kefka's voice was menacing, but he knew that there was nothing he could do to the Emperor's prime scholar. "What did you think you'd accomplish by that, Cid? Did you forget that I have eyes that do not sleep watching you?"

"Oh, I did not forget, Kefka," Cid bravely replied. He raised his head and met Kefka's eyes.

"And yet you dared. But no matter. I have no need of your reports, really. I have my own. Things cannot be hidden from me so easily." Kefka dropped the documents right in front of Cid. Cid was unsure of what to do. He just stared at it questioningly. "Go ahead, Cid."

"W-what do you mean?"

"Toss it into the fire." Cid was not expecting that at all. He thought that Kefka would inform the Emperor of his attempt to withhold critical information. Kefka laughed. "What's the matter, Cid? Didn't you want to do that in the first place? Didn't you want to hide the truth from the Emperor and myself? I already know. But there's a great chance that the Emperor doesn't know just yet. There's no need to worry. I can keep a secret!"

Cid stared into Kefka's eyes spitefully. He was toying with him. "What do you want, Kefka?"

"One functional slave crown," Kefka said readily.

Cid's brows furrowed then said, "I cannot have such a thing authorized without the Emperor's permission, and you know that! He was very succinct about that matter."

"Who said anything about letting the Emperor know?" Kefka returned with a dubious grin. 

"I will do no such thing!" Cid exclaimed, flabbergasted at the idea. "The Emperor was right to take those things away from you. Now I'm in charge of researching means of reversing the process--a task I'm glad to undertake!"

Kefka's grin disappeared. "You owe me!" he hissed. "I saved your precious Celes's life! You couldn't have done anything with your obsolete method of bringing her back to life, and you knew that from the moment you saw the knife in her belly. You _owe_ me!"

Cid hung his head in acknowledgment of the ironic truth. He knew that Kefka was right. He could not have made his wondrous machines work well on Celes. They were imperfect. His method was indeed outmoded.

"What are you going to use it for?" Cid asked silently.

"Since when did you get to demand answers from me?" Kefka asked, annoyed. "I will use it as I please to whomever I want."

"And if I say 'no?'"

Kefka turned and started to walk away. "I will be most… disappointed," Kefka said threateningly.

**********

(Static.)

Guardian: Start of first recording.

(Long pause.)

Voice 1: The baby is strong, my lord. She will survive.

Voice 2: Were you able to identify the true father?

Voice 1: No, my lord. The mother told no soul.

Voice 2: And what of the mother? How is she faring?

Voice 1: The unregulated flow of magical energy caused by the accident has severely damaged her brain. She is catatonic. She no longer reacts voluntarily to outside stimuli. It is impossible for us to communicate with her through known means. If it weren't for the magical aid that she is receiving now, she would die within the hour.

Voice 2: And you think that the baby will survive for five more months within the womb of a catatonic mother?

Voice 1: It seems like it, my lord. It is a miracle! The mother's internal organs are functioning normally with the aid of magic. Nourishment is being given to the child. If everything stays the way it is now, then I foresee no problems within the next five months.

Voice 2: And what is the plan when the time comes?

Voice 1: We shall operate on the mother and extract the child. (Short pause.) My lord, I am confident that, at least, the child will survive. If you could just grant me the authorization to maintain the magical aid that the mother is receiving right now I--

Voice 3: This request you seek is costly! The mother has been feeding mostly on magical energy for three days now. Non-stop! The reactor has been working on full capacity all this time just to maintain this feed. We could be spending the energy on more productive projects. Why should we allow this to go on for five whole months?

Voice 1: To save the child, my lord! I implore you! This is a human being we're talking about.

Voice 3: We are not a hospital! None of us are in the field of medicine. The Magitek facilities are meant to be used on research! Take the mother to a medical institution.

Voice 1: But they cannot sustain the mother's life for five months! My lord, they have no adequate equipment for the task.

Voice 3: That is not our problem!

Voice 1: You heartless--

Voice 2: Enough! (Short pause.) Your plea is notable, no doubt. Your intention to save the life of the child is commendable. But I'm afraid that my adviser is correct. The amount of energy needed by the equipment is taxing. Reports say that the reactor may not last two weeks, let alone five months. We've only begun construction of the second reactor and will not be finished in a year. This Empire is on a quota of breakthroughs. I simply cannot delay our research on other fields. We need the reactor for other _equally_ important purposes.

Voice 1: Four months, my lord! Four--

Voice 3: This is not a negotiable situation.

Voice 1: Four months and I come up with a way to increase the output of the new reactors!

Voice 3: (Scoffs.) Now you're giving empty promises!

Voice 1: I am confident, my lord! Let me look at the designs. Let me join the development team for the Magitek reactors! I will double the output of the future reactors!

Voice 2: Cid--

Voice 1: Please, my lord! I know I can do this!

Voice 3: You dare interrupt the emperor?! Guards, take him away!

Voice 2: Guards, stay! Kefka, let me handle this.

Voice 1: Four months. I only ask for four months. I implore your most merciful and benevolent soul. Grant me the authorization to keep Celine alive so that her child may live!

Voice 2: (Long pause, then a sigh.) I will give you ten days--

Voice 1: But--

Voice 2: For ten days the reactor is yours, Cid. After ten days, it will be shut down--

Voice 1: My lord--

Voice 2: Unless… you come up with a way to make your promise come true.

Voice 1: Thank you, my lord! I--

Voice 2: And then the reactor will be up for a month.

Voice 1: I--

Voice 2: Unless you come up with _another_ way to contribute to our research in the field of magic.

Voice 3: (Laughs.)

Voice 1: (Silence.)

Voice 2: So you see, Cid, the life of the child is in your hands. One breakthrough in the field of magical research will reap you one month of dedicated energy from that reactor. What do you say, Cid?

Voice 1: I accept, my lord! Thank you--

Voice 2: Do not thank me, Cid. For this is a business proposal.

Voice 1: I thank you just the same for giving me this chance!

Voice 2: I trust that there is no need to tell you to do your best.

Voice 1: There is no need, my lord.

Voice 2: Then you are dismissed.

(Footsteps. Door shuts.)

Voice 3: You are most wise, my lord. But why? You could've demanded the same thing in exchange for his own life!

Voice 2: A motivated worker works faster than a threatened one. Besides, I cannot simply let the child die.

Voice 3: And why not?

Voice 2: Do you know what day it is, Kefka?

Voice 3: (Gasps.) The last day of the Celestial Rise.

Voice 2: Yes. Now you understand. It would be in our best interest to watch this child very closely. We shall refer to her as _Subject A_.

(Silence.)

Guardian: End of first recording.

(Static.)

I have played the recording over and over again, each time with growing apprehension. The voices were familiar. The first voice belonged to Cid. The second, to the Emperor. And the third, to Kefka. I felt no need to authenticate them. I knew somehow that the recording was genuine and unaltered. 

I was not biased about this assumption. I didn't want them to be real. But I had no use for denial for that would only be a waste of time. Guardian had given me something to utterly catch my attention with, and admittedly, I was very intrigued, to say the least. 

_Celine. My mother's name was Celine. Long time ago, Cid said that my mother died in a laboratory accident during a magical infusion process. It would be too much of a coincidence to think that this recording had nothing to do with my mother… or me._

Subject A. This confirms a conspiracy centering on me, but it's not enough to identify it. I will need more.

First recording. How many were there? Only Guardian would be able to answer that question. I must make contact with her again if I am to find out. So many clues. So many questions. If I am to liberate myself I will need some answers. I must ready myself to make the sacrifices.

But first, I must meet with the man who has labeled me Subject A. The emperor has summoned me finally. For the very first time, he will speak to me. Considering all that has happened, I am very curious to hear what he has to say.


	5. The Proposition

**The Proposition**

_I have been fortunate_, General Leo Cristophe thought to himself yet another time. He had been repeating those words in his head for the past week. _Celes is alive, and the emperor is at ease. Surprisingly, the terrible incident hasn't changed Celes's decision to be a temporary general. I worry about her psychological health yet the counselors and therapists report that she is well._

How can a young woman such as she be so calm about dying--about being singled out and murdered! Why does it not bother her? We haven't spoken about it since that day she woke up in the Military Infirmary. It's not natural. Most of all, it's not healthy.

_Dare I bring this up to the Emperor? My objective was to make sure that she ascends to generalship. Mission accomplished! Mine is not to question why. Is that it? Would I be out of line to be concerned? Wh--_

"I was under the impression that the emperor would want to see me alone," Kefka said, breaking the general's thought. He emerged from the shadows of an unlit corridor that joined the one that the general was traversing.

Leo, too, thought the same. He looked at him coldly and said nothing. He didn't even pause in his pace. He was summoned by the emperor just a few minutes ago. _Was I to come in secret?_ he thought. The general looked away, ignoring Kefka like an inconsequential nuisance. He was ahead, and Kefka trailed just a few feet behind him. Kefka picked up the general's pace and followed him. They were headed to the same venue.

Kefka grinned and decided to have a little fun. "I hear you're being sent back to Doma," he started. He waited for a response from Leo, but the general was too disciplined to fall into Kefka's conversational traps of ridicule. "You know what this means, don't you?" Kefka paused. "The emperor has no need for you here any longer." He said the last sentence with a suggestive inflection of mockery. Leo frowned, but said nothing still. His pace remained the same. "Well, I suppose that's all right. Doma is where they need you right now. You should be relieved to know this since it takes less thinking to be waving your sword about. The mission there is just right up your alley." Kefka snickered softly, though Leo didn't seem to be reacting to his effrontery. "Which reminds me… what are you doing here anyway?"

"That's classified even to you, Kefka," Leo replied without glancing back or slowing his pace.

Kefka snorted. "Nothing's classified to me. You may only believe so. But I know everything that's going on in the Empire. Do you know why, Leo? Because I make it my business to know." Kefka twisted his ugly smile.

"If you are so all-knowing, then why do you still ask?"

"I'm curious to know what _you_ were led to believe. Do _you_ know why you were _really_ summoned by the emperor in the first place?"

"As a matter of fact, I do," Leo answered.

"I doubt it," Kefka said. "You didn't even know that you were being sent back to Doma until I mentioned it to you."

"What is your point, Kefka?" asked the general, annoyed.

"Point? Why must everything have a point, Leo? I'm just trying to have a bit of chit-chat with you. It's been too long." Kefka laughed.

The truth was in Kefka's lips. Leo had heard of no such news from the emperor or anybody about him being sent back to Doma. The sadder part of that fact was that the general believed Kefka. He knew that Kefka was not at all making things up just to annoy him. Kefka did not need to lie to do just that.

"You will find, Kefka, sooner or later, that people aren't as predictable as you like to think they are," Leo said calmly.

"Goody!" Kefka exclaimed. "That sounded like a challenge!"

The two of them reached the entrance to the meeting place. An elite sentry guarded the entrance... or so it seemed. Kefka and the general suspected that there were more about in the shadows, hiding and invisible. They were capable killers. Those who would threaten the emperor's life in their presence would be complete fools. The emperor's elite guards were the best and most disciplined of the soldiers in Vector. They were privileged enough to be infused with magic and trained to use it proficiently. 

The guard did not salute to the general. The elite guard did not need to. Out of respect, however, the sentry bowed slightly in Leo's presence.

"His Benevolence awaits within, good sirs," the sentry said quietly.

The sentry opened one of the doors for the general and the adviser. The two entered, and the doors closed behind them without a sound. The room was dimly lit, though the light present was comfortable enough to the eyes. It was warm and relaxing. The room almost looked like a dining room. A long rectangular table was situated at the center. The walls were of dark-colored, varnished wood. The floor was carpeted red. Blood-red banners draped half the room. A fireplace on the farthest wall, opposite the double doors cradled a comfortable fire with logs that gave off a faint smell of spice.

Even in the simplest-looking room of the Vector Fortress, elegance was no stranger. The ceiling was plastered and painted entirely of murals illustrating an obscure, age-old battle. The light came from two small chandeliers above the tables, burning with pine-scented candles. The table, polished and uncovered, was about twelve feet long. At one end sat the emperor himself, waiting patiently. A glass of red wine stood in front of him.

Leo and Kefka went around the table to greet the emperor in reverence. Kefka kissed the big ring on the emperor's hand that bore the Empire's insignia. The General knelt before the emperor until the emperor gave him permission to stand up. After the greeting, the two sat closest to the emperor, opposite of each other at the table. The emperor's face remained as calm as stone. His eyes sparkled with much intelligence in the reflecting candle lights. He was no ordinary old man. It was as though he was determined to live forever.

"How is my Empire faring?" he asked, addressing the question to no one in particular. 

Leo and Kefka both looked at each other uneasily, unsure of what to say or who to speak first. Kefka decided to take that charge. "Everything is going well, my lord. The rebel attacks have not compromised our goals in the least."

"The Military's resolve is not shaken. They are eager to march to battle to defend our cause. If any, my lord, the recent attacks have made us stronger. The Empire still stands behind you. They only await your orders," added the general.

"We have allowed these rebels to get too close to us. They are within the Bronze Compound, and, quite possibly, within the Bronze Fortress as well," said Emperor Gestahl.

"Nonsense, my lord! I have my own sentries, invisibly guarding the fortress. They do not tire. There has been a breach in security for sure, but the fault really lies in the slipshod sentries of the _outer _defenses," Kefka replied, his voice suggestive of how the military had been careless in their duties.

Leo glared at Kefka before speaking. "The steps to driving the wolves out of the fences have been in play since you summoned me, my lord. It has not paused nor slowed for any reason. Not even after their assassination attempt," reassured Leo.

"The assassination attempt succeeded, Leo. What have you to say about that?" the emperor asked. His voice was still calm as always, yet the challenge was clear.

Leo bowed his head and was solemn. "I… shall make no excuses, my lord. The assassin struck with disregard. We shall not be caught unprepared again," he said apologetically.

"Like how Colonel Blaey and Colonel Ranger fell for the trap that the rebels setup for them?" Kefka added with a grin.

Leo's face grew red. Kefka's impudence was starting to get to him. "I say, 'good riddance to those two!'" Leo asserted. "They did not follow procedures properly. They moved in without my authorization. Rest assured, my lord, that they have been replaced by two new and competent leaders, carefully evaluated by the New Military Council."

"But they were still your responsibility, were they not?" Kefka continued to argue.

"And was it not your responsibility to fully secure Magitek Lab Omega from outside threats?" Leo retorted.

Kefka's grin vanished from his painted face. "_I_ have corrected my mistake. Subject A lives again, does she not? Come to think of it, the saboteur actually aided us into bringing Subject A back to life. How ironic!"

"How convenient!"

"What are you suggesting, _General_?" 

"If the two of my most trusted servants are done bickering with each other, I will start with the purpose of this meeting," Emperor Gestahl interrupted. Leo and Kefka fell silent and eyed each other spitefully. "You two have done very well in controlling the damage. Celes Chere lives again. Good job, Kefka"

"Thank you, my lord."

"And she is still a general. Good job, Leo."

"Thank you, your majesty."

"This is but a beginning. I want the rebels driven out of Vector."

"Give me a week, my lord, and your authorization to fully search every house and office in Vector Capital, and to detain those who questionably reside in them. I will guarantee you that I will drive them out!" Leo offered.

"Give me three days, my lord--"

"Three days! That's impossible," Leo remarked with a snort.

"Three days…" Kefka said louder, "… and your authorization to use one functional slave crown."

"No, Kefka!" the emperor replied adamantly. "I shall authorize no such request until Cid has come up with a way to reverse the process!"

"But it works perfectly, my lord," Kefka insisted. "Why spend time to research such a thing?"

"Because a great empire is one that has the ability to _undo_ her mistakes should she make one... which is precisely what the two of you should be concentrating on right now!"

"I entirely agree with you, my lord," Leo concurred. Kefka frowned and fell silent on his chair.

"Besides," the emperor continued, "I have a better idea."

As if on cue, the double door opened to let the emperor's personal messenger inside. The messenger bowed before the three of them, and then he addressed the emperor. "Lady Chere waits outside for your word, my lord."

"Ah! Perfect timing," the emperor noted. "Send her in."

The messenger left the room quietly. Leo and Kefka exchanged puzzled looks.

Seconds later, General Celes Chere entered the room looking smart in her less ornate leather armor--dark brown, polished, and custom-fitted just for her. Her leather gloves and boots matched the color of her leather armor. A blood-red cape attached to her bronze shoulder plate pronounced her rank on sight. A pair of bronze shin plates completed her attire. She neither wore nor carried a helm. Her hair was tucked behind her head neatly by a silver hair pin, allowing no lock visible in the front. 

Celes's eyes focused on the emperor and held them in a reverent stare. Her face was calm. Leo remembered the same calmness back on the platform where she was attacked by Beigeletter--stone cold and almost unfeeling. Leo could no longer find the cheerful, young lieutenant in her. It was as if she were… transformed. _Mine is not to question why_, he thought to himself again to extort whatever comfort he could find in that old military adage. He found none.

The emperor stood up from his chair and started towards Celes. The newcomer knelt down on one knee and bowed her head saying, "My lord, I am honored to be in your presence finally."

"Rise Lady Chere," the emperor said, smiling warmly. "Stand tall and proud so that I may have a good look at the new leader." Celes stood up with her chin up, looking straight into the burning hearth. Leo noticed that she was avoiding his eyes. Kefka looked indifferent at the new general's arrival. He leaned back and slouched on his chair with a yawn. "Ah, yes! The Military will not see it coming," the emperor said gleefully. "So young. Innocent-looking. They will be in for a surprise!" The emperor pulled out the chair from the other end of the long table for her to sit on. Celes looked unsure of how to react to such a humbled act. "Come now, Lady Chere. Take your place with us at this table. We have much to talk about."

"Thank you, my lord."

The emperor walked around the table to get back to his chair. "I've heard promising prospects about you," the emperor started as he sat back down.

Celes nodded and replied, "So have I, my lord."

The three men fell silent all of a sudden. Celes sounded disrespectful. Kefka raised his brows while Leo feigned a cough to disperse the awkwardness in the room. The emperor was speechless for a moment until he spotted a slightly twisted smile on her face under the dim light. The emperor's look of surprise was replaced by a smile. He laughed heartily, and Leo followed with his own nervous chuckle. "Such charm, too! Leo, you never mentioned that to me."

"She is full of surprises, my lord," Leo said as his excuse. "That much we have ascertained." Leo stared at her. She was still avoiding his eyes. Her eyes remained in contact with the emperor almost unblinkingly. Her twisted smile was indeed a charming one--but also smug.

Kefka stifled a yawn and stared into the fire behind his emperor. Leo had a feeling that Kefka was trying to hide his face from Celes.

"How do you feel, Lady Chere?" the emperor asked the question in a sudden serious tone. 

She was not exactly sure how he meant the question so she carefully spoke her answer. "My recovery from the infirmary was swift. I feel just as strong now as I did then. My resolve is not shaken by the incident. I stand eager and ready for my first assignment, my lord. Command me."

"Well said, Lady Chere," the emperor delightfully noted. "And give you your first assignment, I shall." The emperor paused and stroked his mustache. "I shall not send you into battle just yet, Lady Chere, for I am aware that you are still to complete your advanced training. But I have found the perfect mission for you--a mission fit for a general.

"Lady Chere, you are to continue the temporarily decommissioned general's assignment. Do you know what that is, General?"

"Yes, my lord, I do. He was in the process of investigating the first Magitek reactor's unfortunate malfunction," Celes Chere answered.

"Very good, General. But what you do not know is that he was the first to uncover the tracks of our saboteur."

"I was under the impression, my lord, that the saboteur has been captured."

The emperor sighed. "Yes. Unfortunately, the saboteur has proven to be quite useless in revealing critical information regarding rebel operations…" the emperor said as he deliberately glanced over to Kefka. "… due to some _ complications_." Kefka flushed in embarrassment and controlled anger. "Nevertheless, my most trusted servants," the emperor said, motioning to Leo and Kefka, "are in agreement. They each have plans to drive these rebels out of Vector. How to do this is a matter of debate at the moment."

"I would like to hear of this plan, my lord, if you do not find it too inquisitive of me," Celes asked. Her voice was clear and not withheld.

The emperor smiled. "Not at all, General. I expect all of my most trusted servants to be inquiring when it comes to the important matters of the Empire." The emperor paused briefly and then continued. "Leo thinks that I should grant him authorization to scour every household and building in Vector, detain the suspects, interrogate them, and eventually execute those who are guilty."

Celes thought. "Quick, direct, but short-sighted," she commented bluntly.

Leo cleared his throat and smiled. "Short-sighted, General? Please explain."

"Consider for a moment, General Cristophe, the difficulty of the challenges that a rebel--presumed to be a foreign person--would encounter in operating within Vector. This person would need the following essential elements. 

"First is a base of operations. The rebel would either choose one in a highly-populated area so as to cover their movement in the hustle and bustle of the streets. Or, they could choose one that is isolated from the general populace. A suitable location for the latter is hard to find in a lively city as Vector. They would want to be close to where they could hear and see what is going on within the Bronze Compound. Not to mention that a sudden increase of activity in an isolated place would rouse suspicions. So it is most likely that they would settle for an inconspicuous location closer to the Bronze Compound. The problem with this is that, though they could hide from us behind the _hubbub_ of the streets, they would need some degree of protection to hide themselves from the _hubbub_ itself.

"This brings us to the second of their essential elements--the sympathizers. I can spot a foreigner rather easily in Vector. A foreigner in Vector have a lot of things to be mindful of--laws, economy, politics, social interaction, awesome, strange and intimidating technology--you name it! And it is that mindfulness that make them stick out like a sore thumb each time. A wise rebel operative would most likely recruit one of ours to stand under their cause." The emperor shifted his position and stroked his beard. He was very interested to hear more of what the new general had to say. "To say the least, this isn't a very easy thing to do. But it is quite possible. They would lie, threaten, bribe and do everything in their power to gain silent supporters. Perhaps, in doing so, they secure funding from local merchants or from outside sources. I do not wish to sound so blatant, my lord, but we haven't been exactly watching our borders very closely."

"Indeed!" the emperor agreed. "Please continue."

Celes nodded. "The truth is… the Empire has underestimated the corruptibility of its own civilians. We have put too much protection in the military, thinking that in turn, that would be enough to protect the civilians. We have not taken into consideration the inverse of this fact, and that was our mistake. Though our military protects the general populace, it is from that very same population that we get our military from. Day after day, I used to train new recruits, my lord. I've seen all sorts, shapes and sizes. Rich and poor. Men and women. Strong and weak. But what I was not able to see was whether they were loyal… or treacherous.

"The third element is intelligence. Spies. No longer do the rebels satisfy themselves with mere sympathizers. They will mobilize themselves. They will need information gatherers. They start looking for talented people or people who have access to certain areas of the Bronze Compound. People whom they can manipulate subtly or forcefully. Disgruntled employees, power-hungry personnel, sons or daughters of important people who have access to their briefcases--"

"You forget about our security measures, General Chere. Identification cards, checkpoints, scanners, Magitek Drones…" Kefka interrupted. It sounded almost as if he had been itching to say something.

"Bypass codes, unmanned stations, unwatched access ducts, vents and sewer access… accomplices--" Celes argued, but Kefka interrupted her again.

"Preposterous! You honestly think that--"

"How else would you explain the saboteur who denied you the use of _your_ very own Magitek Lab Omega reactors, Adviser Palazzo?"

Kefka was struck speechless with rage. If it weren't for the paint on his face, they would all see the redness. Leo snickered silently. "Don't be too hard on Kefka, General Chere. You simply cannot rule out simple incompetence on his part."

Kefka turned his head abruptly towards Leo's direction and hissed, "Shut up! I will not stand here and be insulted by--"

"Enough! Both of you!" the emperor shouted irritably. "This interruption is most disrespectful in my presence!"

Kefka and Leo both apologized, and let Celes continue.

"I did not mean to sound--" Celes started to apologize, but the emperor interrupted him.

"Your apology is not needed, General. Your theory has captured my attention. Go on. What is the fourth element?"

"The infiltrators--saboteurs and assassins. They are the ones trained and given specific missions. Their missions usually comprise of three steps: Get in, be done with it, get out. Unfortunately for us, a mission success is counted after the second step. The third step is optional. More alarming is that fact that the first step is a fall-back position. Once they're _in_, they stay _in_ indefinitely.

"My lord, I contend that the rebels are at a comfortable striking stance right now. This is how I've come to the conclusion that General Cristophe's plan is 'short-sighted.' The real threat is no longer out there in the streets. The essential base of operations that the rebels started with is now but an inconsequential relay post."

"I don't believe I follow, General. Relay posts?"

"My lord, once the rebels successfully infiltrate Vector Compound--and they have--their hideout will then only be used like… like… like a 'post office' for spies. Orders from the outside come in, reports from the inside go out. They become mere communication posts."

"And you don't think that these _ posts _areimportant?" Kefka asked.

"That's not what I'm saying at all, sir. I'm saying that these posts are like mushrooms. Stomp on one of them, and another will simply pop up. These posts are much easier to establish than a real base of operations. At this point, my lord, gentlemen, they have no real use of a base within our borders. Why else did you think they used it to set a trap for the two Colonels?"

"I think I understand," the emperor said, nodding.

"As do I," Leo said. "How very enlightening! Never have I fought an enemy coming from within long enough to understand them. But you!" Leo motioned to Celes. "You speak with wisdom and insight!"

"Perhaps!" Kefka added bitterly. "But I do not hear from you a better plan to eliminate the threat."

"_Neutralize_," she corrected. "And no I haven't made a proposal yet."

"Do you have one, General?" the emperor asked expectantly.

"I do, my lord," Celes said. She took a deep breath and glanced at Leo. Leo caught her stare. She looked very distant. "Fall back to our previous state of emergency--back to yellow alert. Let us give them breathing space once more. Allow them enough leeway to continue with their next operation while I embark on this investigation. The trail will be fresh. I will have no difficulty locating the leaks. Once we find these leaks, we will watch them very closely. Another infiltrator will show himself or herself sooner or later. The successive attacks are sure to have made them overconfident to attempt another one."

"I must say that I disapprove of this, General Chere," Leo started to say. "This is too much a risk. You know what happened last time. As a result, General Fencross is in a coma, two of our top colonels are dead, and you… were assassinated right before the eyes of the Military. Who's next?"

"You are correct, General. Which is why we must narrow down their targets. As much as possible, I want them to come after me again. I will be ready for them this time."

"And how do you intend to _narrow down_ their targets?" Kefka asked, dubiously.

"You must leave Vector," Celes said as a simple statement.

The three men were speechless at the proposition. Finally, Kefka started to laugh. "You have some nerve asking the three most important people of Vector… _ to leave Vector!_"

"I did not mean it literally, Adviser," Celes explained. The emperor listened intently. "At least, not for all of us," she added, looking at Leo. "My lord, you could announce to the public that you are leaving Vector on a diplomatic undertaking to an undisclosed location in the far North. We'll make it look like that you've left. Only your most trusted servants would know the whole truth.

"In the meantime, I respectfully suggest that General Cristophe continue his mission in Doma. Adviser Palazzo could pretend to join you, my lord--"

"I will not hide from these rebels. If they--"

"Let the general finish, Kefka!" the emperor said in reprimand.

"I want them to see me while I do my investigation. I want them to look at me and see a perfect target."

"Sounds dangerous, General," Leo noted. "I'm beginning to wonder that perhaps _you_ are underestimating them."

"Not at all, General," she replied calmly. "I believe it's safe to say that I am now more aware of what they are capable of more than anybody in this room today." She said the words without as much as a shudder. "Oh, and General Fencross is still a vulnerable target. We must announce his fake death and move him to a more secure and secret location."

"So with us out of the way, you think that the rebels will come after you again?" Leo asked.

"There is one other military figure whom they might go after besides me. Colonel Harold Llurd," Celes pointed out. Kefka frowned at the mention of Llurd's name. Celes noticed this but said nothing about it. "As much as I would like to have him leave, I'm afraid that the rebels would get suspicious. Therefore, I think we should just let him stay. With General Cristophe gone, Colonel Llurd will be under my direct command." Celes paused briefly. She was at the end of her proposition. "My lord, I am aware of the risks. But I am confident that we can catch the next infiltrator this way. I do not see how else it can be done, my lord. The enemies are inside. And inside is where we should start!"

The three men were silent once more. Leo sighed, shook his head slightly, and leaned back on his chair in thought. Kefka slouched again and directed his attention to the burning fireplace as if thinking that what followed next was of little consequence to him. 

The emperor was silent for a long time. Not a hint of emotion was on his face. He stood up from his chair and paced slowly towards the heavily curtained window of the room. Looking out he saw the new recruits at the Assembly Ground, marching in formation at dusk. Their drill officers shouted angry commands at the new recruits. The marching formation was not perfect enough for them. Many made mistakes. They were uncoordinated in their movement.

Nearby were Magitek Lab employees exiting a nearby building as their shift ended for the day. The employees walked around the Assembly Ground, out of the soldiers' way, and towards their special civilian quarters within the Bronze Compound. They carried with them briefcases and documents. The emperor wondered whether those documents contained classified information. He wondered whether one of those employees or new recruits was a spy. What Celes had said all made sense. Her theory was plausible. The enemies didn't just find a way inside; they have established themselves inside somehow. 

"My lord?" Leo interrupted his thoughts.

The emperor turned away from the window. The drapes covered it completely once more. He walked back to his chair and sat down. "Lady Chere, your proposition has been most informative… and inherently disquieting." The emperor sighed before he continued. "I must give this some thought," he said sincerely. "In the meantime, I want you to convene with Professor Brown and his team. His team and General Fencross were cooperating in the investigation of our first saboteur. Learn what you can from him and his team. I shall give you my word as soon as I have given your proposition some thought."

"Of course, my lord," she said, smiling haughtily. "May I ask what Adviser Palazzo had in mind about the situation?" she asked, recalling that she was only able to hear Leo's proposal. 

"That is none of your--" Kefka started, pointing a finger at her. He was promptly interrupted by the emperor, however.

"_Kefka_ thinks… that we should use a particularly _untested_ technology, General Chere," the emperor obligingly answered, casting an icy glance towards Kefka.

Celes raised a brow in curiosity. "Untested technology?"

"A slave crown, General Chere. It is still very much into its developmental stages," the emperor lied. "But _I_ have ruled out that option so it is of no importance at the moment."

Celes saw through the emperor's lie. She thought it prudent not to pursue her curiosity. "Very well, my lord," she said, standing up. "I shall begin with your appointed task and shall await your decision."

The emperor bowed slightly signifying that she has been dismissed. Leo turned to the emperor and quickly said, "My lord, if you would allow me to escort Lady Chere, it would be most gracious of you."

"Granted, Leo," the emperor said, swiveling his chair around to face the fire.

Leo hurried beside Celes who was still wearing the same smug smile. As Celes turned to leave, Leo made sure that her cape did not get caught in her chair. Leo walked with her through the door and once outside he said, "You surprise me each time I see you, Celes."

"Why, Leo! It is unbecoming of a general to always be caught off-guard with such trivial things," she said, jestingly.

"How true. But I meant that as a compliment."

"I am… flattered." She spoke with such formality that the sincerity of the words was lost.

"You handled yourself in there quite well, Celes. Your proposition was very impressive. But I do hope that you do not take the news too hard _if_ the emperor rejects it."

"Do _you _believe that he would?" she asked in confrontation.

"Well, I do not wish to sound pessimistic, Celes. But he was right after all. You are still to complete your advanced training."

"That, I would. But I do not see how that has anything to do with my plan. I am confident that--"

"Pardon me, Celes," he interrupted with a smile. "But having great _ confidence_ in your self is not nearly enough to ensure a favorable outcome."

"I am aware of that, Leo. I shall meet my challenge after much preparation. It is unbecoming of a general to do any less," she answered coolly.

Leo smiled again then chuckled politely. "I'm just preparing you for the possibility of rejection. But always remember that when the emperor decides on something, it is only after great thought."

Celes smiled back and bowed in understanding. "I know, Leo. Goodnight." She turned and started her long walk back to her quarters. Leo stood by the closed door, watching her. As he was about to enter the emperor's meeting room again, Celes's voice was heard from down the hall. "Oh, Leo… I am prepared for my proposition's rejection. But are _you_ prepared for my proposition's approval?"

The words were like a riddle to him. He did not give it much thought. Celes was out of sight now. Her personal bodyguards waited for her outside. _ She should be fine_, he thought. Leo opened the door and entered the meeting room again. The emperor spoke to him almost immediately. "Leo," he began, "you are going back to Doma tomorrow."


	6. Dead Ends

**Dead Ends**

"Tomorrow, my lord? B-but, my lord. I have much to do here still," the general protested.

"The business left undone at Doma and Hargenh has been postponed for too long, I'm afraid," the emperor explained. Though the emperor had no need to explain himself to a servant, Leo wanted very much to learn why the emperor had a change of mind. Unfortunately, Kefka was also present.

Leo looked at Kefka, expecting him to be at an irritating sneer. Instead, he was half-surprised to see Kefka seemingly in a trance, staring at the fire, deep in thought. Something about the meeting had greatly disturbed Kefka to give him pause. Even Leo thought this odd.

The general swallowed and respectfully conceded. "As you wish, my lord. I am merely concerned about General Chere. I promised to give her my guidance should she need it."

"She is in good hands at the moment, Leo. You have done your job well. No harm will come to her. _I_ am convinced that she would perform rather well in her mission."

"So you _are_ going to accept her proposition, my lord?"

"Yes. But my decision to send you to Doma has nothing to do with her proposition. That was just a coincidence. Tomorrow, after your departure from Vector, we will announce General Fencross's death. And later, Kefka and I shall make our _disappearance_. She is a brave woman, Leo. In a week's time she will be a capable woman. Don't you think so, Kefka?"

Kefka snapped back to reality with a startled gasp. "What…? Oh, indeed, my lord! I totally agree," Kefka lied.

"Is something the matter, Kefka?" the emperor asked. Leo, too, was curious.

"Forgive me, my lord. It was just something General Chere said about infiltrators. It has made me concerned about the security of the Bronze Fortress," Kefka said in haste. He stood up from his seat and bowed. "If his lordship has no more need of my presence, I would like to return to my service and make sure that the Fortress remains safe."

"You are excused, Kefka. And so are you, Leo," the emperor said. It seemed that he, too, wanted to be left alone in thought.

The general and the adviser exited in respectful silence. Once outside, both walked the corridor without a word. Kefka seemed to be too worried about something to even brag about how right he was about the general's scheduled departure. Leo didn't know whether to take this as a good sign or not. The general was tempted to ask what was really bothering Kefka, but he bit his lip before he could. 

When they reached a junction where the both of them were to part, Kefka said with a sneering grin, "I told you so." Kefka laughed the rest of the way.

**********

_Personal Log of Lady Celes Chere, General of Vector._

Day Eight of the Celestial Rise.

_I am to stay a general. That was the plan all along. The emperor made no mention of my temporary status. He made no mention of General Fencross's. His mind was decided on my mission. I am dancing to their music._

The emperor is a liar as I have suspected. They are all liars. They lie to control me. They lie to protect me. I will find out why.

I offered them a piece of my mind about the so-called rebels. The emperor is cautious, but I predict that he would accept my suggestion. Leo will be sent away. General Fencross will be announced dead. The emperor and Kefka will lie low per my suggestion. The emperor did not seem to mind. However, I sensed that Kefka was fully opposed to it and that he was unable to speak his mind freely at the meeting. The strings that tug are gaining directions.

Slave Crown Technology. Kefka wanted to utilize it. What is it? I must find out.

Investigation of the Terra Episode. General Fencross almost died because of it. What did it involve? 

Guardian. Who is she? What does she want? How did she gain access to our system? Why can we not trace her?

Rebels. I will make myself their perfect target. I will make them come after me while I track them down. They will not catch me off guard like those pompous fools. As harsh as it may sound, the colonels deserved it.

Llurd. Though I have not spoken to him yet, I predict that he is bitter about my promotion. Why wouldn't he be? He coveted this rank. He will despise me. No matter. I am general. He is colonel. He will obey me.

End of personal log.

**********

In the newspaper were four main reports. The first was the tragic death of General Fencross due to an unforeseen heart problem during his recovery. The Revival team failed. A funeral ceremony would be held in two days time. The second news was the Emperor's departure from Vector on a diplomatic mission in the Far North together with Adviser Palazzo. The third report was General Cristophe's return to his mission in Doma and Hargenh. 

The last report was about me. "Lady Chere to Take Charge of Rebel Investigation," it said on the headline. The column had my picture on it just as I requested. Vanity was not part of my plan. I simply wanted to make sure that the rebels knew exactly how I looked like. I would've clipped the column for myself as souvenir, but it was I who wrote the words. I wanted to deliver clear messages to all who read it--hope for the civilians, a challenge for the rebels, and disbelief for the Military. 

Dr. Brown showed me everything that he showed General Fencross--the First Strike.

An intruder infiltrated the most restricted area of Magitek Lab Omega. It is still unknown as to how the intruder managed to bypass the sophisticated security systems and its redundancy support. Speculations suggest that the intruder had an inside assistance. It is still unknown as to how long the intruder actually stayed within the Magitek Lab, but Brown's team have concluded that the intruder's mission was to sabotage the primary reactor--and was evidently successful in doing so.

The intruder was detected due to an unscheduled activation of certain computers within the Omega Lab's Core by night-shift monitors. As standard operating procedure dictated, a team of engineers, escorted by a team of inner Imperial Guards, jumped to the scene to investigate. The intruder was discovered. She promptly fled the scene. The guards sounded the alarm and pursued her. The engineers contacted their Lab Director and Adviser Palazzo. 

The pursuit has not been documented due to some technical problems with the security cameras and sensors. How convenient! During the time of the pursuit, two Magitek drones have been overridden to assist the intruder. The first drone was given a voice override code. It was soon subdued by the guards within the complex. The second drone was overridden internally. It killed four guards within the complex with its primary blaster. 

Approximately ten minutes after the intruder was first spotted, the annexed Magitek powering station went up in flames due to a reactor overload. The intruder escaped. The second drone was found well outside its range of control, hence, was forced to deactivate itself. The guards who continued pursuit all died together with the night-shift workers in the powering station.

The emergency crew responded immediately and arrived at the scene of the burning rubble within five minutes. They managed to retrieve the lifeless body of one of the workers. In two hours time, the worker was alive again, brought back to life by a science team using Cid's method of Revival.

My first impression was that Brown's team concluded erroneously about the intruder's mission that night. If the intruder's mission was to destroy the reactor, then why did she infiltrate the most protected area of the Devil's Lab? Why go through the concentrated number of security measures of the Magitek Lab when she could have gone straight for the annexed Magitek powering station itself? Did the intruder trigger the unscheduled activation of the computers by accident? If not, what exactly were those computers for, and what was she doing with them?

I followed the lead. I went straight to the Devil's Lab to learn more about the computers. I thought the Emperor had given me enough clearance to access all facilities in the Bronze Compound during this investigation. I was wrong. My clearance did not extend far enough into the heart of the Devil's Lab. I was denied access each time they ran my card through the slot. Did the emperor forget to clear my access into the lab? Was it a simple oversight on his part? Or did he intentionally leave out the lab from my access card? Whatever the answer, I could not request for his clearance for they he had already announced his departure from Vector with Adviser Palazzo. Though in reality they were still within the Bronze Fortress, I was afraid that I would blow away their cover by making the request.

The first lead was a dead end. I have to go around it. I will try to find out how Terra got past the security by thinking like her. For that I would have to ask her.

**********

"Access denied?!" General Chere exclaimed in disbelief. "The emperor has given me the authorization to continue the Terra Episode investigation! How can anybody expect me to accomplish this if I cannot even interrogate her?"

The guard shrugged indifferently as if to say, "That's not my problem…_ general!_"

I read his subtle facial expression. He was one of those who had reservations against my abilities. As a logical thinker, I did what the wisest course of action was--I yielded.

I calmly took my access card from the guard and walked away in a dignified manner. I knew that arguing with the guard was futile. Both the Devil's Lab and the prisoner were off-limits to me by order of the emperor. Both were dead ends. _But no matter, _I thought optimistically. _One of the clues must lead me somewhere. Even the gentlest of winds casts a ripple in the water. If I cannot ask her, then I will be her._

**********

And that was how I came to be staring at a big monitor in front of me in a private library open only to privileged people. I was alone. The monitor displayed three-dimensional blueprints of Magitek Lab Omega. The graphical representation was highly elaborate. Not only did it show me the rooms and corridors, it also revealed the ventilation, sewage, heating and cooling systems. The computer also had the ability to reveal the locations of all security cameras, motion sensors, power grid, laser tripwires, sentry positions, guard routes and Magitek drone patrols (also known as 'drone zones'). With another touch of a button, I could make the computer show the high-traffic areas, areas with low temperature, areas with high radiation, or even areas where a two-hundred pound person had been in the last two days. 

The three-dimensional blueprint was immense. For six hours straight, I have been looking at it, following virtual corridors, going through virtual barriers, opening virtual doors while dodging virtual security cameras and sensors. Six hours and I have not yet seen half of the virtual Magitek Lab Omega. Six hours and I have not yet found a way to virtually infiltrate the outermost layer of the Devil's Lab.

_This is impossible,_ I thought. _It is a given that the infiltrator had help from the inside. But I don't think only one person could've helped her. Turning off one or two security cameras in one place is easy enough to do. But the redundant security system will reactivate them after six seconds--ten seconds, at most. Turning off three security cameras at a time is a handful for one person to do. _

Making sure that they stayed offline while creating the illusion that they never were is close to impossible. And I haven't yet considered the rest of the cameras, tripwires, doors, motion sensors and the drones! Even then, these are only the automated security systems--programmed with clockwork predictability. The guard patrols are an entirely different matter--almost random! The Terra infiltration was a team effort. One to infiltrate. At least, two to handle automated security measures. And at least one to watch the guard patrols. A team that worked in flawless coordination. 

I contemplated long in silence and concluded that it was--_Still impossible! No team of this size could've acted with such coordination while evading detection. I am still missing something! Quite possibly something so simple that it has been overlooked by everybody!_

The screen went blank all of a sudden. At first, I thought that there was a power failure. The humming of the other computers around told me that it was something else. I was still alone in the small library. There were no books--only computer terminals. There were no windows, either. The only exit was a high-security metal door that was locked at the time. 

I tapped on my keyboard several times, trying to bring up the previous screen to no avail. Then, a female voice was heard from all corners of the room, dead and artificial.

"Mind-boggling, isn't it?"

My reaction was quick. I stood up from my chair with complete abandon of what I was doing, while drawing my sword. I made a slash as I turned around, just in case somebody had sneaked up behind me. My eyes scanned the room quickly. My ears listened for the slightest sound. The room was clear. I was still alone. Physically alone, at least. However, it was clear that there was a presence. A familiar one.

"Guardian," I said simply, lowering my sword.

"That is correct," Guardian answered. I sheathed my sword and picked up the fallen chair. I was more relaxed now. There was no immediate danger. "Don't bother trying to trace this transmission."

I had no such intention. I knew it would be futile. "What do you want, Guardian? I thought we were through. I gave you a chance when we first talked, and then you left me."

"I left because our meeting concluded," Guardian said. I walked over to the metal door, opened it, and then peered out. "There is nobody out there, Celes. And even if there was somebody out there, I wouldn't allow them to get in."

I raised a brow, intrigued. _She can hear me. But can Guardian see me, too?_

"Then, at least, lower your voice."

"The room is soundproof."

"How would you know that?" I asked. I wanted to see how much Guardian knew about the facility.

Guardian brought up the graphical blueprints again and located the exact same room that I was in on screen. The room was clearly labeled soundproof. Not only that, Guardian also showed me where the security camera in the room was located. I looked up to a corner of the ceiling and saw it. I moved around the room and observed that the camera followed me. It was how Guardian saw me.

I approached the terminal again and sat down on the chair. "You are interfering with my investigation, Guardian," I said flatly as if I wasn't interested in what Guardian had to say.

"The Terra Episode. Yes. I've heard the news," Guardian said. "How goes it?"

"I've identified one of the accomplices."

"Indeed. Who would that be?"

"You."

"Congratulations, Celes. But I think you already knew that."

"Maybe."

"Why have you not put me in your report yet?"

"I lack the evidence."

"That's not what I heard."

My curiosity upped one more notch. "Oh? What have you heard exactly?"

"Start of recording," Guardian said.

Celes: Fall back to our previous state of emergency--back to yellow alert. Let us give them breathing space once more. Allow them enough leeway to continue with their next operation while I embark on this investigation. The trail will be fresh. I will have no difficulty locating the leaks. Once we find these leaks, we will watch them very closely. Another infiltrator will show himself or herself sooner or later. The successive attacks are sure to have made them overconfident to attempt another one. (Conversation speeds up and resumes at normal speed.) My lord, I am aware of the risks. But I am confident that we can catch the next infiltrator this way. I do not see how else it can be done, my lord. The enemies are inside. And inside is where we should start!

My face felt heavy forming a frown. My top suspect had heard about my plan. It was definitely not a good thing. I shouted angrily, "That meeting was supposed to be a secret. How could you have heard? Unless… you were there! Who is this? Leo? Kefka? My lord? Is this a test?"

"Calm your self, Celes. I was not present at the meeting. I heard through electronic ears. There aren't a lot of places in the Bronze Fortress where I cannot hear."

"So you know of my plan now. What are you going to do?" I asked grimly.

"I plan to help you."

I laughed. "You mock me, Guardian. You underestimate me."

"I was being sincere," Guardian replied coolly.

"Let me get this straight. You want to help me with the investigation so that I may quickly apprehend _you_ and your accomplices?"

"Negative. I want to help you with the investigation so that you may discover the whole truth behind the Terra Episode. I suppose the easiest way is for me to simply tell you what happened. However, you are the type of person who needs to be convinced of something before you could accept it. So what will it be, Celes? Would you believe me if just told you the whole truth now? Or would you prefer to do this the hard way?"

I was tempted to opt for the first choice. But Guardian was right about me. Whatever it was that Guardian had to say would only be met with my doubts and skepticisms. I could hear Guardian's claims, but I would never be able to accept them as the truth without testing them under fire.

"That sounded suspiciously like a challenge, Guardian. But I gotta hand it to you. You were right about me not opting for the first choice. Therefore, I will call your challenge."

"My challenge?"

"You said you could convince me of something by doing it _the hard way_. I say that there is nothing you can do or tell me that will make me believe a rebel. And I mean _you!_"

"Now _that_, to me, sounded like a challenge," Guardian returned. 

The room's lights went off, replaced only by a red emergency beacon. Normally, a siren would accompany the red light, but this time, there was only near-silence. The computers were still active. The only exit was still locked. I grew apprehensive each second.

"What are you doing?"

"Setting up the board. Give me a few seconds and all will be ready," Guardian replied.

"I have no time for games, Guardian. Open this door now! We are through here!"

"Things are already in motion. Soon, so will you be. Tonight I will answer many of your questions regarding the recent events that has transpired in Vector. I will show you a certain secret that it keeps. And I will help you identify the other players on the board so that you may know who to watch out for."

I punched in the override codes. The door did not respond. I tried opening it manually by pulling a metal latch. The door only buzzed and denied me access. In frustration, I kicked the door with a short grunt.

"Who are you?!" I cried.

"My name is of no use to you and your investigation. It's a dead end like your previous attempts. It is what I am capable of doing that will interest you. Come closer, Celes, and watch carefully."

**********  
**********  
**********

**Author's Notes:**

I haven't had the chance to proofread this one so if you see an error, please tell me.

**Shameless Personal Website Promotion:**

Do you like crossword puzzles? I'm currently experimenting with making my own FF6-themed crossword puzzles on my site. Check it out and let me know what you think of it!   
URL: www.sealed-gate.net/~magicite

Do you like to draw? I don't know why I haven't mentioned it before, but my domain has a Paint BBS where you can draw online and post. Draw anything you like (as long as it's in good taste). Doesn't matter if you're not good at it. Heck, I know I'm bad at drawing! Anime, Final Fantasy, Pokemon, abstract... whatever your poison is. Help us populate the PBBS with more people. Everybody is welcome! Draw and post your messages!  
URL: www.sealed-gate.net


	7. The Pawn's Flight

**The Pawn's Flight**

I did as I was told. The monitor in front of me blinked to life again. This time it showed a live video feed of a room in a Magitek Facility. The room looked very familiar to me. Sure enough, I recognized the room to be Cid's private office. I had been there only once before. It was when I was granted access to the Magitek Facility due to my promotion to generalship. Cid appeared on screen carrying a stack of documents to his desk, looking irritable.

"Leave him alone, Guardian," I warned dangerously.

"Professor Cid del Norte Marguez is Vector's top scientist. Though already highly-advanced, Vector is still years ahead of its time because of him. His inventive genius is an irreplaceable asset to the scientific community. He is one of the targets whom you've failed to name in your possible list of targets. Ironically, he is the least protected of them all."

I was furious. "I said leave him alone!"

Guardian ignored me. "The professor is expecting a package to arrive to his office tonight. In the package, he expects to find a _harmless _Magitek assembly part so that his team can test it as routine. What he does not know is that I have replaced the content of the package with an explosive that will detonate when lifted out of its casing. The explosive is disguised to look like something else, of course."

"You wouldn't--"

"I calculate that the package will arrive in his office in thirty-six minutes--more than enough time for you to walk out of this facility and warn him about it." The screen switched back to the 3-D blueprint. It showed the room that I was occupying and the immediate area. "However, underneath this very facility is another Magitek reactor set to explode in fifteen minutes. The explosion will be enough to destroy the floors above it--including yours." The blueprint shifted in perspective to show the location of the reactor. It was several sub-floors below me. 

"There are two ways to stop the overload," Guardian continued. "You may head down below to the reactor and enter the code to stop it. However, be aware that the trip down will cost you precious minutes. You will not have enough time to save the professor. The second way is to shut down the reactor remotely. You may do this through a control panel in the Devil's Lab."

"I have no access to the Devil's Lab!" I protested.

"I will provide you access. However, your presence there will raise questions that will compromise your military status. Do not get caught."

"You are forcing me to do something treacherous!"

"The choice is yours, Celes." Guardian wrote the choices plainly on the screen together with the pros and cons of each, as if to mock me.

OPTION 1: Proceed directly to Professor del Norte Marguez.  
RISK: Low.  
PRO: Save the professor's life.  
CONS: Reactor explosion. Many deaths and damages in property.

OPTION 2: Proceed directly to the Magitek Reactor.  
RISK: Low.  
PRO: Avert reactor explosion.  
CON: The professor will expire.

OPTION 3: Breach the Devil's Lab.  
RISK: High  
PROS: Favorable odds to avert reactor explosion and the professor's death.  
CON: The breach would be considered treason. Do not get caught.

OPTION 4: Do nothing.  
RISK: None  
PROS: You live. You keep your rank.  
CONS: Reactor explosion. The professor will expire. 

I felt my teeth lock in anger. This was the complete opposite of my plan. I was supposed to have the element of surprise. I was supposed to trick the rebels. Instead, Guardian was openly trying to manipulate me. It was definitely the last thing I needed in my already-complicated life.

"I do not see how this would prove anything, Guardian, other than the fact that you are a murderer!"

"We will see."

"How do I override the sequence?"

"When you get there, I will give you instructions."

"How?"

The screen changed again. It showed a live feed from a security camera showing an empty corridor and a locked door. I recognized it as the same locked door of the room viewed from the outside. A small Magitek drone appeared from the corner of the corridor. It was a harmless drone created and programmed only to carry and deliver mail and small packages to designated areas. I wondered whether it would be the same drone that would deliver the bomb to Cid.

"I have reprogrammed the drone to deliver a package to you, Celes. Don't worry. It only carries with it an earpiece and a microphone so that we remain in contact with each other. Any questions so far?"

"How do I know that the reactor is really set to blow up? Or that you've sent the professor a bomb? How do I know that you're not trying to set _me _up?"

"You don't," Guardian said coldly. The door made a sound indicating that it was unlocked. I was free to exit the room. "But is it a risk you're willing to ignore?"

I drew a deep breath and stared into the security camera inside the room. "You're bluffing! I'm not going to fall into your trap. I'm staying right here," I said, sounding stubborn. I sat back down on my chair to prove my point. The screen flashed two timers. One started counting down from fifteen minutes. The other, from thirty-six minutes. I tried to ignore them, but I blinked first.

"Damn you, Guardian!" I shouted in anger as I bolted out through the door. I grabbed the package from the drone and started tearing the small box apart with my hands. Inside the box I saw the small devices. I put them on and headed straight for the entrance to the Devil's Lab.

**********

I ran like there was no tomorrow, cursing more at myself than at Guardian. I hated myself for falling into Guardian's hands. I hated myself for gravely underestimating her. It was something I wanted to avoid at all cost. I had only begun the investigation, and already, I was at the mercy of my foe.

Still, I granted my self a degree of reprieve. Though I was caught unprepared about the whole thing, I could find some comfort in the fact that Guardian had a greater advantage in terms of time. Guardian and her accomplice had already infiltrated Vector Compound way before I was promoted to a general. It was Guardian who had the head start.

The plan was useless now. I would have to find another way to chase away the enemies. But for now, I concentrated on the task at hand. The soldiers in patrol stepped out of my way, blinking in confusion as I ran past them. I even bumped into a maintenance person pushing a cumbersome cleaning equipment. The equipment fell onto the floor while the man staggered back for balance.

"Sorry!" I shouted back, not turning my head back nor slowing my pace.

"Oh, I forgot to mention," Guardian said through the earpiece, "You're not allowed to talk to _anybody_ except me. It's a rule."

"Anything else that I should know, Guardian?" I snapped at her.

"Well, it's not a rule but if you want to save both the reactor and the professor, then you're going to have to follow my instructions. Turn right."

"But the Devil's Lab is straight ahead!" I argued, suspecting that Guardian was purposefully slowing me down.

"You need to get past the guards."

"I thought you said you'd give me access."

"Think carefully, Celes. You are about to break into the Devil's Lab with my help. You don't want witnesses. Don't think like a general of the army. Think like an enemy of the army, because your rank won't save you should they discover what you are about to do," Guardian explained. I swore under my breath. Guardian was right again.

I made a right turn at the next junction where a Magitek Drone was located at a sentry point. "Identify yourself," it echoed.

"Stop and override the drone's programming," Guardian said. "Tell me the model."

"Silver drone. GT-20 series," I replied after a quick examination.

"Vector-gamma-five-seven-seven."

"What?"

"That is the override code. Echo."

"Vector-gamma-five-seven-seven," I repeated.

The response was instantaneous. The Magitek drone powered down its weapon and prompted, "Requesting new command."

"Is this how Terra did it?" I asked, intrigued.

"I know nobody by that name," Guardian answered simply. I could not tell whether she was lying or not by the electronic voice alone. But the obvious was overwhelming. "Order the drone to kill the guards."

"I will do no such thing!" she whispered harshly.

"The door that they are guarding is the only way inside," Guardian reasoned.

I thought of an alternate plan carefully.

**********

The two guards were very much awake and determined to keep everybody out. Though, it was only guard duty for the night, it had always been an honor to be guarding the door to the Devil's Lab. It was an easy yet well-regarded task. Just an hour ago they had the opportunity to deny a general access into the lab due to lack of proper clearance. It gave them such a high to have done it. They could brag about the incident the next morning to their comrades.

The guards doubted very much that they would have a hostile encounter at all that night. Besides them, there were other guard and drone patrols in the area. The door itself had sensors and mounted bolt rifles that could either kill or stun. It was easy to feel the redundancy of their presence. They were bored most of the time. The two guards had run out of things that they could talk about. Had run out of jokes to tell and complaints to vent off. Their only salvation for the night was the end of their shift when they would be relieved off duty by the next unfortunate duo. However, the boring routine was about to be broken.

A small Magitek drone approached them. The guards regarded it with curiosity. It was definitely not one of the drones that had been patrolling the area. This was a new drone. A sentry drone, by the looks of it. It was only supposed to guard a specific junction. Yet, there it was, approaching them slowly with its small blasters powered up.

"What in the world is that thing doing here?" asked the first guard.

"Stay clear of that thing. It looks like it's about to shoot," the second guard said as he noticed the blasters. They both parted to let the small drone pass. The drone continued towards the door that they were guarding with no sign of stopping.

"It looks broken," observed the first guard.

The drone ran up against the locked door and stopped moving so that its blasters at point-blank range. Then the drone started spinning in a small circle saying, "Warning: level one malfunction! Please enter manual deactivation code! Warning: level one malfunction…"

"Damn it! What do we do now?" asked the second guard.

"We do what it says. Punch in the code to kill it on its console," replied the first guard. Both of them looked bewildered as they thought of a way to do it. The drone was very much determined to keep going in circles.

"Isn't there a simple off switch for these things?"

"That destroys the purpose of having to rely on them to patrol the area. Imagine an intruder simply hitting the off switches to pass by them," scolded the first guard. "If we could just find a way to stop it from moving long enough for me to enter the code then we should be fine."

"Let me try," said the second guard, trying to be helpful. He took a step towards the malfunctioning drone. It was about four feet tall and mobile with four motorized wheels. The top was dome-shaped with small blasters protruding from the sides. He felt like he was about to wrestle with a pony.

The second guard found a spot to grab on to. With all his strength he tried to stop the spinning drone, but the drone was too strong. Instead, he got dragged in circles along with it. Finally, he couldn't keep up so he let go, falling onto the floor.

"It's stronger than it looks!" exclaimed the guard.

"Let's both try it," the first guard said. They both jumped the drone and tried to drag it down to the ground. The drone slowed a bit but it still continued. The guards heaved with all their might to no avail. "Tip it over!" the first guard said, his face red.

"I'm trying!" returned the second guard. "I've a good mind to shoot this thing with a rifle!"

The drone started slowing down gradually. They felt that it was losing power. They clung to it with their arms. Suddenly, a jolt of strong electric current emanated from the drone's body. The shock was strong enough to incapacitate the two guards. The guards fell unconscious on the floor.

General Chere stepped out of hiding from around the corner of the nearest junction and ran towards the door, carefully stepping over the guards. A spiteful smile appeared on her face when she saw the face of one of the guards who denied her access. She fought the childish urge to kick the guard while he was unconscious just for the very idea of infantile vengeance. 

The door clapped loudly as it unlocked itself. The hiss of hydraulics followed when it slid open. She dashed inside before the patrols arrived in the area. The door closed shortly after. From behind the door, she could still hear the faint electronic voice of the drone. 

"Warning: level one malfunction! Please enter manual deactivation code…"

She was in a new corridor much similar to where she was before. The floors were made of steel. It was impossible for her to cover the sound of her footsteps.

"The patrols here make a counter-clockwise sweep. Proceed to the right and make haste!" Guardian urged. "The guards will be rounding the corner in about fifteen seconds."

General Chere ran to her right, not worried about the noise that she was making.

"What am I looking for, Guardian?" she asked sternly with impatience in her voice.

"Sub-seven D." 

**********  
**********  
**********

**Author's Notes:**

I haven't had the chance to proofread this one so if you see an error, please tell me.

**Shameless Personal Website Promotion:**

Do you like crossword puzzles? I'm currently experimenting with making my own FF6-themed crossword puzzles on my site. Check it out and let me know what you think of it!   
URL: www.sealed-gate.net/~magicite

Do you like to draw? I don't know why I haven't mentioned it before, but my domain has a Paint BBS where you can draw online and post. Draw anything you like (as long as it's in good taste). Doesn't matter if you're not good at it. Heck, I know I'm bad at drawing! Anime, Final Fantasy, Pokemon, abstract... whatever your poison is. Help us populate the PBBS with more people. Everybody is welcome! Draw and post your messages!  
URL: www.sealed-gate.net


	8. The Captured Pawn

**The Captured Pawn**

Sub-seven D," whispered the female intruder. The door in front of her opened almost instantly with a unified hiss of the hydraulics. The locking mechanism behind the door clapped so loudly that it startled her.

"Don't worry. Nobody heard it," assured an unseen presence with an odd-sounding female voice that only the intruder could hear.

General Chere took a deep breath of relief. She did not fully trust Guardian, but she believed her that time. She walked into the darkened facility that the door hid from prying eyes so carefully for many unbroken years. Her blue eyes would soon be witnesses to the wonders that the "Devil's Laboratory" held.

The room was huge but very dim. General Chere quickly glanced around her, finding herself uninterested at the huge machinations at work.At the very center of the lab was a tall column covered with tiny red lights that blinked incessantly. The column hummed with strong electrical current as it slowly rotated. At that, she thought it wise to move on quickly without delay.

"I'm in a fryer!" she said angrily, recalling the term from when Cid gave her a quick tour of his lab. "Are you trying to kill me?"

"This is a low-level irradiated area. Short exposure is harmless," explained Guardian. "Proceed to the west exit at once."

General Chere hurried as directed, carefully stepping over the cables. She passed several of the glass vats that contained various live specimens. She noticed that they were different kinds of animals in some kind of stasis. Some of them were impossible to identify with a quick glance.

"Sub-seven D-west," she read the stenciled sign above the exit out loud.

The door opened again emitting the same hissing sounds and claps of the locking mechanism. The door slid open revealing a brightly illuminated room. She quickly stepped inside, and then closed the door behind her. The floor was different. It was tiled white like the walls and ceiling.

_Same insipid tessellation! I welcome the day when I see a more creative way to tile floors,_ she thought. "I'm in. Now what?" she asked impatiently.

"Take the other exit," Guardian instructed.

General Chere saw the door opposite of where she came in from. It was a normal looking door made of strong wood with a thick glass window that allowed her to see what was behind it. She strode over to it and peered through the window. Behind the door was another steel-clad corridor. She looked at the knob that opened the door. A keypad was installed beside it. Apparently, an access code was needed.

"It needs an access code," General Chere said in the same impatient tone of voice.

"I have control of doors now, Celes. You need no access codes."

A confirming beep was heard, and the lock clicked open. She turned the knob, and the door swung open allowing her to leave the locker room. She felt like she was back to where she came from because of her metal surroundings.

"Go south. Enter third door on the right."

General Chere moved quickly. No patrols were about for now. "How am I doing in time, Guardian?" she asked worriedly.

"Two minutes before reactor overload. Don't worry. You are very close," promised Guardian.

General Chere reached the next door that was like one before except this time it didn't have a keypad for access code. She turned the knob and just entered without a whit of trouble. The room was very dark and was drowned by the humming of various machinations that were oddly distorted. The sounds echoed horribly and reverberated all together into a unified droning note. Above that was a distinct rhythmic sound. One would have to shout above the sound to be heard by another human being within ten feet.

"You are on a plank. Don't wander off--"

"I know where I am," General Chere said, annoyed. Even with very little light, General Chere could see sufficiently around her. She crossed the plank without even turning on the light. She reached the door across and opened it. She went through it and found herself in another darkened section. It was much quieter this time.

"This is it," Guardian announced.

General Chere looked around her. Dim lights were all around her like differently colored stars. She assumed that they all came from _sleeping_ computers. What really caught her attention were the odd-looking glass pods hanging from a support beam at the ceiling in rows, barely touching the metal floor. She regarded the pods with anxious curiosity. The pods seemed to be filled with clear bubbling liquid. Moreover, the pods contained odd-shaped figures--shadowy and enigmatic.

Her visual acuity was above normal. With the little light that she was receiving, she could make her way around the room. But it was still impossible for her to identify what were inside the pods. Then she remembered what she came for in the room. She reprimanded herself for getting distracted. "I did everything you told me. What do I do now? How do I stop the overload?"

"I lied. There is no overload."

Then all the lights blinked out completely.

**********

"What?! You double-crossing bitch!" I whispered loudly. The first idea to come to mind was to hide. I hated it. I looked around. There wasn't much to find in the darkness except vague figures that seemed to play tricks on me. One was strangely shaped like a Magitek drone. But I knew it was not a drone because it would've been operative if it were. Still, I paced uneasily, letting her arms and hands do the navigating in the dark. I scaled the nearest wall sideways for a light switch. At any moment, the guards could come in and discover me. Then I would be in trouble for trespassing. I knew from the start that my rank would not be able to save me, and I was sure that Guardian knew it, too. Breaking and entering in restricted areas were inexcusable offenses. Vector was very thorough and systematic when it came to clearances. Even more so when it came to the internal investigations which, ironically, was what I was supposed to be doing. I could get caught and be punished as a traitor, and Guardian would still be sitting pretty at her hiding place. 

I reached the corner of the room without finding the light switch. I dared not venture further. I stood at the corner, eyeing the exit keenly for activities. The fact that I settled at the corner was unnerving. I pondered at the logic or the psychology behind the hypothetical safety of corners. Corners provided no cover. Corners were the worst things next to a dead end. I felt vulnerable. The whole room was the proverbial corner of the entire complex. It was where Guardian wanted me to be. That is, if she were after me. "Why did you lead me hear?"

"I want you to meet someone," Guardian replied. It was frustrating to just hear her with the synthesized voice. I could not tell whether she was _voicing_ that in a threatening way or not at all. But my reaction was founded. Guardian led me to where she wanted me to be, and now she was going for the kill… or so to speak.

My eyes widened in alarm. I was afraid. I was angry. I was led to a trap that I foresaw, but I had no means of avoiding it. The risk was too great. "Don't you dare!" I whispered harshly. "If they discover me in here, I swear I will find you, and I will make you pay!" It was an empty threat, and Guardian knew it. I had no idea where to start looking for her.

A light source finally lit up, but it was not for the room's illumination. One of the capsules that hung on the ceiling moved. It descended from the massive support beam through the help of giant mechanical clamps. The light came from the clamps themselves. It was a beacon light--bright yellow and in constant rotation as a signal to everybody to get out of its way. The light was not enough to penetrate through the capsule's thick and tinted glass to identify what was inside. But after remembering what Guardian said last, I knew that something--or rather, somebody alive--was inside. 

I held in my breath in anticipation. Though I was in no immediate danger, the thought frightened me. _What would anybody be doing inside a small encasement such as that?_ It looked like an upright, semi-transparent casket. No intelligent living being should be held inside such a thing for any reason. It was unnatural.

The capsule was now completely detached of the support above. A hiss of escaped air broke the silence for a split of a second. I flinched at the sound making me feel irrationally embarrassed. The capsule was suspended in-between the floor and the ceiling by the giant arms. Another light beacon lit up, coming from a hole on the floor that I had not noticed before due to the lack of light. I walked closer towards the hole, surrounded by a protective railing to prevent the workers from falling over the edge. The beacon was red this time, and it blinked rather than rotated. The beacon was part of a short column rising to connect with the suspended capsule. It was a base for the capsule. 

Another horrible metaphor entered my imaginative mind. When the base finally connected with the capsule, I felt that I was looking at a giant novelty snow globe. 

"Who…" I heard myself say. My voice trailed off after the first word. It was so obvious now. I looked at the figure inside the dimmed capsule. The base hummed to life, and a soft, warm light inside the capsule illuminated the figure within. It was a girl. She was around my age. Naked and trapped in that thick encasement filled with clear but unknown liquid. A mask that seemed to provide her air covered her mouth and nose. Her eyes were closed, and her hair… green--eerily floating freely in its immediate weightless environment like a torch's flame in slow motion. "It's her," I uttered after finding enough strength and courage to trump the anxiety building up within me. "It's her, isn't it. That's Terra!"

"Her name is Tina Branford. Rank: Second Class of the Third Infantry."

Did she mean that this was not Terra, and the real Terra was somewhere else? Or did she mean that her real name was Tina Branford? I could not tell. Too many possibilities. Too many things I did not understand. Too many lies brought about to cover up… something.

"Terra was an Empire soldier?" I asked. _The wall of lies breaks now._

"Affirmative," she answered. A single reply that answered many questions, and opened more questions.

"So she is a traitor!" I asked in confirmation. I was told that Ter--Tina Branford was a rebel. Perhaps a half-truth.

"The terms _traitor_ and _treason_ hold no meaning when the very allegiance she had sworn to protect and fight for conspired against her. Tina Branford was not the betrayer. The Empire was."

Rebel. Soldier. Traitor. Saboteur. Murderer. Victim. Was she one or many of them? Was she all?

"Why is she here? What have they done to her?"

"She is in stasis. The capsule is meant to keep her alive. At the same time, it protects her from all harmful external factors and aging. The process is painless. It is like a deep sleep--much more effective than cryogenic stasis. This process is backed by magical energy."

_Safe and protected. Like me?_ I didn't have much time. I had to ask as many questions as possible. "Why is she being kept here?"

"That is for you to find out on your own, Celes. If I tell you now, your judgment will be muddled with doubt."

"Her hair… it's green." The question had nothing to do with the investigation, but I had to admit that it was very unusual. 

"It is a reaction to the presence of magic around her," answered Guardian. I was sorry I asked.

My hair stayed the same color after the infusion. Why should hers react differently? "Reaction? Since when did magical recipients react like that?" 

Guardian's answer was an enigmatic "Never."

Next question. "What is that on her head?" It was a thin golden band--a circlet. Besides it and the mask, it was the only thing on her. Hence, it was pretty hard not to notice it. Guardian's answer took me by surprise yet again. Her answers were prompt. I was glad of that, at least.

"Currently one of the only two fully functional slave crowns."

"A slave crown! But the emperor said it was an untested technology!" 

Finally! Something useful.

"The emperor lied."

I was not surprised. "What do they want of Branford?"

"The same thing they want of the next crown slave." Prompt, yet mysterious.

"And that would be…?"

"…a kind of information that would cost you. In any case, this is why you were not granted access to the Devil's Lab. It's why you weren't authorized to interrogate her."

I looked around. Everywhere else was dark. The present light from the capsule and its base were still not enough to see the whole room. The other capsules still hung from their supports. I wondered whether there were more people inside them. "What or who else are they hiding in here."

"Secrets."

The light inside Branford's capsule blinked out, and the mechanical clamps whirred back to life. The base detached itself from the capsule again, and it started to retreat back down to the lower level. The clamps lifted the capsule quickly and attached it back up to its original support slot. Then the beam itself started to move, carrying with it the capsules. In a single file, they moved to the east wall and through a suspended door just big enough to accommodate their sizes. When the last one of them was through it, the door closed with a sliding panel.

There was something about the peculiar atmosphere of the lab that made me summon up strange and disturbing images. This time, I likened the whole thing to a row of butchered meat hanging from meat hooks, being taken away by means of suspended rails to be processed. I shuddered at the thought and reprimanded myself once again. Still, I wondered in sheer morbid curiosity at how accurate my metaphor was to what really was.

"What's going on?" I asked nervously. My voice quaked, I noticed. My imagination got to me more than I had anticipated.

"They have discovered the unconscious guards outside. The lab is in yellow alert. They are going to do a quick inspection of the place to make sure nothing inside has been compromised."

"What am I going to do? There's no place for me to hide!"

"Are you claustrophobic?" Guardian asked.

"What?!" I asked back incredulously. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"Are _you_?" she repeated. It was a lesson learned when I dealt with Guardian. _Answer the question to find out why it was asked._

"No!" I answered back.

"Against the south wall there is a small magic infusion chamber primarily used for short-term infusion. Hide in there."

Again, I had no choice. I followed her advice. The door was already unlocked. I wondered if Guardian was responsible for it. I entered the chamber and shut the door just in the nick of time. The door had a small rectangular viewing window. I could see what was going on outside. The lights in the room turned on with such intensity that one would think it was natural sunlight. I could've used that light a few seconds ago. But now, the capsules were gone. Hidden. Protected.

The room was immense. The walls weren't ordinary walls. They were computer banks. The floor I was on was nothing more than an observation deck. I realized this when the light in the room provided enough illumination to see the hole where the base of the capsule retreated to. The hole was bigger than I thought. It had row after rows of the same base for the capsules, all connected to individual massive supercomputers. What they were for was a secret. I've always fancied Cid's laboratory to be elaborate and intricate. His lab was nothing compared to this. The rest of the lab was out of my line of sight.

The two exits opened at the same time. And also at the same time, two teams of Fanatics entered through them. They were all dressed in dark green cloaks. Their faces were all painted black, each with unique white symbols on their cheeks as if for identity's sake. The symbols weren't anything I've seen before. They looked like ancient alphabets.

The Fanatics spread out and began their search. Some went over to the terminals to check whether the computer system had been damaged. Some searched the corners with sharp, unblinking eyes. They had no weapons with them. They didn't need to carry one. I heard that all cult members were privileged magic-users.

"Fanatics. Where are the guards?" I thought out loud in hopes that Guardian would have the answer.

"The Devouts run this place primarily under Kefka's supervision. During your investigation, you will discover that his cult comprises a great portion of the elaborate scheme of secrecy in Vector."

Because the cult itself was a riddle, I was not surprised that they would be the sentinels of secrets. But why, Vector's secrets? The cult was not military. It wasn't even a legitimate part of the Empire's jurisdiction. Did the emperor forge a partnership with the cult? Why?

The Fanatics were methodical in their search. They left no nooks and crannies unchecked. If there was a stone lying about, I was sure they would turn it before they would question why it was there.

"They are headed this way," I gasped as I shrank away from the window. The chamber was as small as a walk in closet, and it was bare. "I am trapped!"

"Be silent, Celes, and do not move. Trust me." 

What could I say? I had no choice.

The walls of the chamber began to glow blue. The intensity grew with every second. They were no ordinary walls. I've seen the kind of wall before during my very first infusion with the Heal and Safe magicks. I looked at them again in marvel as black marble turned blue to bright white in a matter of seconds. I was forced to shut my eyes just like last time. 

"What are you doing?! They'll see me! Stop!"

The process was done in just a few seconds unlike my first infusion which took minutes. I opened my eyes. Everything was black again. A familiar tingling sense lined my spine, making my skin crawl all over. Hurriedly, I looked out through the small window again and saw that the Fanatics were converging to my location. They had seen the light coming from the inside. I was done for. Guardian had betrayed me. It was checkmate no matter how I looked at it. I was about to utter my last empty threat at her when--

"If you value your life, Celes, don't make a sound. They may not be able to see you, but they are certainly not deaf."

I shrank back down to the farthest wall which was not at all far. The door flung open, and immediately, I saw the silhouette of four Fanatics with their fingers pointed at me. I don't know what kept me from attacking them. I could've surprised them when they opened the door, possibly taking down two or three of them in the first attack. Instead, I followed Guardian's advice. 

I was glad that I did.

The Fanatics just stared inside the chamber. Their eyes all blinked in confusion. It was not the type of reaction that I was expecting from them. Then I heard Guardian speak… from a computer just outside the chamber. Her voice passed for one of those automated voice announcements coming from computers to report.

"Magic-infusion chamber diagnostic test complete. System is functioning at peak efficiency. Next scheduled auto-diagnostic test: thirty-five hours, fifty-one seconds and counting."

The Fanatics lowered their arms and closed the door. They split up once more and started scouring the rest of the room. I was dumfounded, to say the least. I had no explanation to what had just happened until Guardian spoke in my ears again.

"The invisibility magic will wear off in an hour. You have more than enough time to evade this inspection and exit the building."

_Invisible! _That explained it all. Guardian had programmed the chamber to temporarily infuse me with the Vanish magic. I drew closer to the window that was the only source of light. I lifted my right hand and touched the glass. I could feel the glass. But I could not see my hand. I felt eerie and thrilled at the thought of being invisible.

"Is the coast clear?" I whispered to Guardian.

"Yes. Leave fast."

And so I did. I stepped out of the chamber and closed the door without making a sound. In the light, I took a good look of myself. Rather, I tried to. My body and my clothes were all invisible. I touched my nose with my finger successfully during my first try. I was relieved to find out that the process did not compromise my vestibular and kinesthetic senses.

It was such a wonderful, unnerving, and exhilarating experience that I wished I could stay invisible forever. I was tempted to walk over to one of the Fanatics, and slap them at the back of the head. But that was way too risky. Perhaps I could just trip one of them as they walked pa-- 

"Make haste, Celes. The package is almost delivered."

T_he package! _I had completely forgotten all about it. Cid's life was still in danger. I started to move as fast as stealth would allow me, watching the floor carefully for things that I could kick or trip over accidentally. After a few meters, the first challenge posed itself to me in the form of a set of thick cables, bundled together across the floor, terminating in various computer consoles against the west wall. _Easy,_ I thought, but as soon as I lifted my foot over the cables, I saw it--my boot was slowly becoming visible again. The invisibility aura was rapidly wearing off starting from my foot. It was like light chasing away the veil of shadows from Vector's cityscape at sunrise.

I shrank back from the cables before the visibility line got to my knee, and I was completely invisible again in an instant. I glanced around the room to see whether somebody noticed me. The Fanatics were all busy scouring the rest of the room behind me. 

"Be careful. Those machines are no ordinary computers. Small amounts of various magical energy signatures flow through those cables to be analyzed. You _do_ know the significance of that, don't you?"

I didn't. But I was glad to have learned that lesson fairly quickly.

"Invisibility magic is a form of magical barrier that warps the visible spectrum of light around the sphere of effect, making the recipient of the magic, undetectable to the naked human eyes. However, it becomes highly unstable in the presence of a different magical signature. The barrier may waver or completely dissipate. Therefore, you must stay away from these machines and Magitek drones," Guardian lectured.

"Shut up and tell me which way to go," I whispered.

"North exit. Turn right and straight out." 

I hopped over the cables nimbly and proceeded to the North exit in haste.

**********  
*********  
**********

**Author's Notes:**

You may have noticed that the first part of this chapter is very similar to the very first chapter of "The Terra Episode." In fact, it's almost verbatim, but with one major difference--it's now happening to Celes instead of Tina. I did this to make several points. Besides the basic plot development, I wanted to show 1.) Guardian's strong manipulative ability, 2.) Celes's twist-of-fate, 3.) comparison between Tina's actions and Celes's reactions, 4). the past ("The Terra Episode") and the present ("Finding Sanctuary"), 5.) I was feeling too lazy to rewrite the same events for Celes. =P

Also, I did some hurried proofing before I uploaded this chapter. I'm almost sure that I missed a few. If you find an error please tell me.

**Author's Responses:**

** "The switch from first to third person is the only error I can think of..." ~Golden Lady Serenity**

I appreciate the help very much. The sudden switch of person in narrating is due to my careless conversion. I wrote the chapters that I have so far in the third person, but as an experiment in writing (and as a challenge given to me by Dragoness) I've been converting some of them to first person. 

It's quite an interesting approach. My narration became more personal in relation to the protagonist. However, I quickly learned the obvious disadvantage of first-person narration--it's inherently biased. I have to switch between first- and third-person narration on scenes where they apply. I'm not saying that it's bad. I'm just saying that the future fics will most likely revert to impartial narration.

**"It will be interesting to see Celes as the second Terra!" ~Joe**

You're either psychic or you actually opened up the file I sent for you to proofread! =P 

Anyway, now that Celes has seen Tina, I think it would only be logical for her to prevent herself from having the same fate as Tina's. The next chapters will have an atmosphere of a mystery novel to it. This is where first-person narration would really shine! Thanks, Dragoness!

**"Oh, one other thing. I don't *think* I've mentioned this, but I like your character development. You keep the game characters IN character, and your original characters have actual personalities, rather than just being moving, talking scenery for the key players. I have to commend you on that." ~Golden Lady Serenity**

Thank you! Although, I think I have to exercise a bit of caution from now on. I recently had to zap an entire written chapter from my beta version because I thought I made Celes _un-Celes-like_ on it. Admittedly, I get carried away sometimes.

**"I hope to see more in the near future, whether Celes decides to become Superm-er, Superwoman?" ~Dragoness**

Superwoman? I dunno about that. But I haven't exactly gotten to the part about her Runic sword ability just yet. Not to mention her Ice magic. Both have been hinted at in the previous fic, but those were just vague introductions. One of these will come into play later in this fic. The other will be on the next fic. So which do you think will come first? The Ice or the Runic blade?

**"We shall find the true identity of Guardian by the time we get to umm the game, right? Perhaps..perhaps not..." ~Dragoness**  
  
The true identity of Guardian ** will be revealed**. But not in this this fic. Perhaps not even in the sequel to this one. I will leave clues, however. Right now, I advise all of you to just take Guardian as she (or he) appears to be and not be bothered too much about her real identity. Guardian's function in the story is sort of _deus ex machina-_ish. She's the one who makes big things happen but we know so little about. 

For those of you who have read "The Future is Written" three or four years ago, I'm telling you now that the Guardian conceived then is completely different from the Guardian now. I've totally rewritten her identity.

**"Though, despite Guardian actually being pretty spiffy (...I want to bypass government and military security codes too!), part of me wants to find whoever's the real her, and have it rain scalding hot coffee on her. :D She's just a bit too smug and ambiguous." ~Golden Lady Serenity**

** Guardian: **It's the voice, isn't it? I sound smug because my fake voice reveals no emotion. Well, I can't help it. You don't even know me. You are so mean. Boo-hoo-hoo. Even my sobs sound like I'm mocking you. How can you really tell?

**"Are we gonna see Jennina again?" ~Dragoness**

It's a small FF6 world. Who knows? =)

**"Now to have my soul devoured by the next chapter." ~Golden Lady Serenity**

The soul is the last thing to go. Pace yourself. =)


	9. Witnessing

**Witnessing**

After eluding the Fanatics in the Devil's Lab, I ran at top speed, carefully avoiding collisions with the Imperial Guards on alert. The exits of the entire facility had been closed for sure until they could clear away the yellow alert. It was standard operating procedures. Very little things could trigger the alarm. Because of its sophistication, the Devil's Lab ran this type of routine almost every week. Most of the time, they were just false alarms. Nevertheless, each was taken very seriously. With Guardian's help, they would see this as another of those incidents. After all, I will be summoned to investigate this later, and it would be easy for me to conclude a false alarm. The convenience of how things would work out eventually was staggering considering the fact that I was forced to break one rule after another. It was as if everything was meant to happen. As if a bridge were being built beneath me as I crossed a chasm.

But time was running short. Though, Guardian had provided me an alternate exit--through an unsealed delivery chute--thereby bypassing the guarded exits, I calculated that it would all be too late. I only had five minutes left before the package reached Cid's laboratory--Magitek Lab Alpha--and I was running on foot. I prayed to the powers that be that he would not open the package immediately. I hoped, in a selfish way, that somebody else would open it for him. Then he would not be in any danger.

As I ran, I thought about this more. _Why wouldn't it matter if another opened the package for him? Surely, the person who would open it for him would be just as innocent about the whole thing. I ran to the Devil's Lab thinking that the reactor was really going to blow up, killing dozens of innocent people. I ran to save those lives. Why, now, was I willing to embrace any hypothetical situation as the favored outcome over Cid's death? _

The thought appalled me. All my life, I had been fair and objective. Quite easily, I could choose between good and evil. Good would win each time. But now, in the moment of desperation, Guardian was making me choose between the lesser of two evils. I would, at any given time, sacrifice myself to prevent the death of a friend. I would, at any given chance, sacrifice myself to prevent the death of an innocent stranger. But when neither time nor chance permitted it, there I was pleading in my mind to the unknown gods and goddesses, "Please! Don't let my friend die. Let the innocent stranger die instead!"

_Who am I to make such demand? Who am I to make such sacrifice? It's not my life to offer. It's unfair. It goes against everything I believed in._ And so, as I ran, I made a decision that would eventually change the way I viewed the world and its people. A new discipline. A new philosophy. A new rationale--_I mustn't let my personal emotions get in the way of judgment_.

"I'm not gonna make it! I swear, Guardian. If he _or anybody _dies, I will personally--"

"Nobody is going to die tonight, Celes," Guardian said, "Don't you get it yet? I lied to you about the reactor overload because it was the only way for me to convince you to break into the Devil's Lab to see the truth for yourself."

"You mean..."

"The professor will live to see tomorrow. I lied to you about the bomb because I want you to be there when he opens up that package. I want you to see with your own eyes and hear with your own ears of what is to transpire. And then, Celes… then you will gain a new insight of everything that you believe."

A great wave of relief defeated my desperation. And yet the urgency to run was still there. Guardian had a reason to lie to me about the reactor. Surely, she would have another reason to lie to me about the package.

"But if the package is not dangerous, then… why--"

"Don't slow your pace. Keep running! I know that you do not tire easily. Enter the professor's lab with your own keycard and head straight to his office. Find a place to stand where you can witness everything while staying out of their way. Be very silent. No matter what transpires in that room tonight, it is critical that you do _not_ intervene! I cannot stress this enough. Do _ not_ intervene!"

**********

I peered through the glass door of the entrance and saw an unfamiliar guard on duty. Jasom was on vacation. I was the one who signed the papers to grant his girlfriend's family safe passage through Vector's borders. I was the one who approved the vacation request. The two lovebirds were now in Maranda for a month. I was very happy for them both. The way they hugged and kissed each other that day told me that true love was very much abloom. I wouldn't be surprised to see Jasom a married man upon his return.

The man who filled in for his guard duty was a slouch. The guard was clearly slumped over his desk, snoring. I had a mind to reprimand the guard, but there simply wasn't enough time. I entered the glass door. A bell chimed softly to indicate entry. The chime woke the guard up with a start. Too late for him--I was already inside, and the door had already closed behind me. He scanned the room for visitors and saw none. Puzzled, he scratched the back of his head, looking stupid. More to his stupefaction, the door that required security access beeped and slid open. He jumped up from his chair with his sword drawn. The guards inside, did the same. They exchanged strange glances. The guard outside expected somebody to exit while the others inside expected somebody to enter.

I continued stealthily without trouble. The door closed again, leaving the bemused guards. I rolled up my eyes. Prior to all these trouble I was puzzling over how the infiltrator--Terra or Tina--got through the security without trouble. Guardian, it seemed, showed me how in this perpetuated twist of fate. I was the infiltrator. Guardian was my accomplice.

On the wall, beside the guard's desk inside was a clipboard. I read the schedule quickly. The last line answered the question that I had been dreading. A package had arrived. It didn't say where it came from, but it did say that Cid was expecting it because beside it was--

_His signature!_

He had the package. Though Guardian had assured me that the package was no longer a threat to him, I was still anxious about it being in his possession. And I was about to find out why.

I followed the corridor to his office. It was locked. I knocked softly on the door to see if he was inside. When nobody responded, I took out my key card and slid it across the slot. The door hissed as it swung open.

I walked in and then closed it behind me. The room hadn't changed since the last time I was there except for the presence of a package on his desk. It was a small one, about a foot in length and width, and half a foot in height. It sat there, unopened and wrapped in inconspicuous brown paper. I got there just in time, it seemed. I did not count on it. Cid must've placed it on his desk and went about his business again. Apparently, he planned to open it later. I debated whether I should open it myself. The air of excitement left me restless.

Remembering what Guardian told me, I searched for a suitable spot where I could supposedly see what was to transpire. I didn't want to be at a corner because it would be too far. And yet, standing too close to the desk would be a risk. Instead, I chose a middle ground. All I really needed to do was be cautious not to make a sound or bump into Cid.

Cid del Norte Marguez entered his office with a tired and worried look on his face. He looked as if he had been missing a few nights of sleep. Cid walked around his desk and sat down on his chair. He let out a shuddering sigh as he buried his face in his hands. I observed his weariness with silent inquiry. It was the first time that I had seen him so troubled. After finding the courage to lift his head up again, he eyed the package with trepidation.

Sitting up, he opened his desk drawer and pulled out a big and crude metal wrench. He held it with his trembling hand clumsily. Gripping it tightly, he warded off the tremors of tension. It looked like he intended to use the heavy wrench as a weapon. Against who?

The door to his office hissed open, startling the two of us. Cid placed the wrench back inside the drawer of his desk, on top of some filed documents quickly. Clearly, the wrench was going to be used for something other than what it was designed to do. I inhaled and braced myself, my hand, feeling for the hilt of my sword. A stranger in black, hooded cloak entered the room quietly. His face was hidden in a mask of shadow. The stranger stood in front of Cid's desk and made no threatening move. I shifted my position slightly in my attempt to identify the man under the hood. He was about four feet away from me.

Cid stared at the man. He was livid.

"It took you long enough," the mysterious man said, finally. There was no mistaking it from the sound of his voice. It was Kefka. "Is that it?" he asked, eyeing the package on the table.

"Y-yes," Cid began. "As I promised."

Cid began unraveling the brown paper that covered the package, until it revealed a black hard casing. My eyes didn't dare blink. I even stopped breathing. This was it. Whatever it was that Guardian wanted to show me was in that box. Perhaps it would be the answer to all the questions I've in my mind. Since it involved Cid, my most trusted friend, and Kefka, the alleged schemer, what I would learn from this meeting _should_ be _the_ piece of the puzzle.

Cid opened the hard casing. Because of the dim light in the room, I was not able to make out what the object was until he lifted it off the casing. My eyes widened after recognizing the object. My right hand covered my mouth instinctively before I could gasp. I shuddered at the sight of the thin, gold circlet. _A slave crown!_ I thought. _The second of two functional slave crowns that Guardian said!_

What was Cid doing with such an atrocious, mind-controlling weapon? What was he doing here with Kefka? I asked those questions knowing the answer. I was in denial. I wished that I could freeze the moment, walk out of the room, and get some air before seeing what was to unravel next.

"Magnificent!" Kefka said gleefully, eyeing the slave crown covetously. His fingers eagerly moved towards the object. "Now give it to me carefully."

Cid pulled back. He quickly placed the band back to its casing, out of Kefka's reach. "Not until you promise not to use it on her," he bargained.

_Her? You mean me? Who is it for, Cid?_ I thought, wanting to ask the questions out loud. Clearly, I was still in denial. I knew exactly who it was for.

Kefka's face twisted into an ugly frown. His furrowed brows seemed to intensify the redness of the marks on his white face. "You are in no position to negotiate this, Cid" he hissed. "I have been more than patient with you."

"P-promise me, or else I will report this to the emperor!"

"Hah! You're bluffing, Cid. You are as guilty as I am when it comes to hiding certain information from him. Do you really think he'll favor your side should he find out?"

Cid opened his desk drawer once more and took hold of the heavy wrench with his right hand. He held it menacingly above the open casing, poised to strike the delicate band. Such a crude weapon would be enough to destroy it. 

I was glad to know that Cid was somewhat opposed to the utilization of the slave crown. But I was afraid for him. There he was, facing the most feared man in Vector, with nothing more than a wrench in his hand. Kefka was a magic-user. All he needed was a word of command.

"Promise me or I'll destroy this… this… abomination and give the emperor _ negative_ findings about your research!" Cid barked his demand with a jolt of courage provided by his welling anger.

Kefka trembled with rage. He was going to strike. I could feel it. My hand went to the hilt of my sword to defend Cid. Guardian whispered in my ear again. "Do not interfere."

A fork of electrical energy shot out from Kefka's fingertips towards Cid. It struck Cid with a force that threw him back, slamming him against the wall. The wrench he was holding, flew out of his hand and crashed through the glass of the breakfront, breaking the beakers inside and spilling out its contents to the floor. I drew my sword quickly, the sound hidden by the breaking of the glass.

I advanced to strike Kefka from behind. Nothing stood between me and him. It would've been so easy to simply just impale him with my sword. But something held me back. It wasn't Guardian's urgent warnings, nor was it the fear of killing a human being. It wasn't even for fear of my self being branded as a traitor in the end for murdering the Emperor's most trusted adviser. My action would've been justifiable since it was Kefka who attacked an innocent man. What stopped me was the sight of my hands and sword materializing before my eyes. A magical barrier protected Kefka! My invisibility was reacting to it the closer I got to him. 

I shrank back into the shadows before Kefka could turn around and see my partially visible self. The invisibility field wavered for a few seconds and righted itself again. Helplessly, I watched Cid groan in pain. To my relief, he was still alive. Kefka's back was still towards me. He could not have noticed my attempt to subdue him--not that it would've worked.

"I can make your death look like an accident, Cid," Kefka said angrily in disgust. "I can even make it look like you were assassinated by a rebel. It's not very difficult at all. And don't you forget that I have eyes watching your moves! What makes you think you'll survive your trip to tell the emperor?"

Kefka took hold of the open casing and closed it. He held it protectively within the folds of his black cloak and uttered a word of command that filled the room with intense light. After that flash of light, Kefka was gone. 

The Warp magic was too powerful and intense. Even with the distance between us, the invisibility field shattered like glass before me and dispersed. The reactive magical energies cascaded in all directions and burned out the lights, too, except for one. I was whole again--visible to the naked eye. 

I ran to where Cid lay. He was covered with broken glass and splinters. Gently, I brushed them off his face and felt his pulse. It was strong and regular.

_He'll live,_ I thought with joy.

Cid's eyes blinked in the dark. He tried to say something, but he was too weak to do so.

"Get out of the office, Celes!" Guardian said.

"But--" I started to argue.

"Now!" she said urgently.

"I can't just--"

"The professor will live," she promised.

Logic took over once again. I left him lying and groaning on the floor before he could fully recover from the shock. The door hissed open, and I was down in the long hallway within seconds. No siren blared. I suspected that Guardian turned it off to cover my escape. I must not be seen within the building. Questions would be raised. With Guardian's help, I made it outside safely and undetected.


	10. The Cold Trail

**The Cold Trail**

The shadows cradled me as I welcomed the underrated luxury of privacy. Perhaps it was because of the need to stay hidden, bolstered by the high granted me by the magical signature known as Invisibility. Or perhaps it was simply because of the need to stay hidden to escape the world if only for a few moments while I pondered in silence the point of it all.

I had every right to fear the unknown. To flee from it when chased me in my own personal labyrinth I called _Life_. And when it finally cornered me--up against the wall, up on that platform, holding the large knife, running in a killing charge--the End touched me in the tip of my nose with its bony finger and whispered to my bewilderment, "Tag."

That was not the end of the game. It started over. I was alive again. But this time, I was the chaser. I was the chaser of ghosts, of answers, of pasts, of the unknown. Intricate as life. Simple as a child's game. _What is the point? _The very same End that touched me, now run away from me. Why should I give it chase? Why should I pursue it, corner it, and tag it back? 

Was that all there was to life? A pointless game to pass the time? Shouldn't I be worrying about escaping the labyrinth while I am the chaser? Shouldn't I just disappear into the night, escape to the streets, and leave Vector entirely? Shouldn't I just start anew elsewhere?

Leave the Empire. Leave Cid. Leave Tina. Abandon my mission. It seemed so easy to do. So simple. To give up. But I knew deep inside that it was not. I knew the reasons. I ran away because of fear of the unknown. I gave pursuit because of fear of what _is_ known. That was the paradox of the game of life. To live was to play it, and play it for the people you cared about. I now gave chase to the End to prevent it from chasing those whom I cared about.

This door swung open without the need for Guardian's assistance. I shut it behind me softly, but I did not lock it. Back in the relative safety of my quarters, I leaned my back against the door as if to prevent the events of the day from following me inside. It was a futile gesture. I did not blame my subconscious. I was tired not in mind, not in body, but in spirit. It was an area of my being that my Transformation had no jurisdiction over. It was the part of me that I had not been completely aware of--was isolated--in my previous life. It was the part of me that I wished to conquer in time.

Still leaning against the door, my knees gave way under me. My back slid down against the door until I was in a crouching position. Alone in the silence and darkness of the general's quarters, I waited for the voice. Guardian stopped speaking to me as soon as I got out of Magitek Lab Alpha without detection. That was thirty minutes ago, and I still wore the microphone around my neck, and the earpiece in my right ear.

_Was this her way of giving me time to gather my thoughts? _I pondered. _What was there to gather? _Things only seemed to scatter apart when confronted with logic. I wasn't quite sure what happened back there in the lab. Terra. Kefka. Cid. The slave crown. Of all possible ways to make the pieces fit together, why did Cid have to be in-between them all? _Oh, Cid! Whom was the slave crown for?_

The door I was leaning on, the only exit to my general's quarters locked itself automatically. The click startled me. I knew immediately, that Guardian was responsible for it. She was with me again. "You lied to me," I said softly. I said the words plainly, without a hint of contempt.

Her response was prompt. "Aren't you glad that I did? Would you have discovered all the things you've seen tonight on your own had I not lied to you?" 

She paused to give me time to answer those questions in my mind. Her means justified her purpose, I had to admit. It was not a method I approved of, but it was evidently effective. I felt like I should thank her. 

"What I have done tonight, Celes," she continued, "was I pointed you to the right direction. Follow the trail in your investigation with caution. Do so, and you may unravel the whole truth. I will aid you."

_I will aid you,_ I repeated the words in my mind. "For a price," I added. It wasn't a question.

"Of course. I will not lie to you about that. I am not some stranger on a mission to perform random acts of kindness."

Not that I cared if she were. Her being a stranger was enough not to trust her. "Perhaps I will not need your help at all. Have you ever thought about that? The Empire may be conspiring against me, but I'll be damned before I trust a rebel spy." My voice didn't sound angry, yet I was.

"Though, you can do great things with your new-found abilities, know that they are not permanent. They will be gone three days after the Celestial Wane. And even if they are permanent, you cannot fight two battles at once, Celes. No general can."

I closed my eyes. I wasn't used to arguing with a _ghost_. I wasn't comfortable about hearing voices and seeing nothing. Guardian wasn't using a computer screen this time. Closing my eyes, it was just between me and her. "You underestimate me," I whispered.

"And you are overconfident of yourself," she replied, triggering a recent memory in my head that belonged to Leo. He said the same thing about me yesterday. Twice said, and I was already sick of hearing it.

"I am still a general of the Empire," I started to say. My voice was steady. But it didn't stay steady. I was losing control of my anger. My voice trembled as it rose to a yell. "I am still a servant of Lord Gestahl. I have a duty to protect the Empire! You are still my enemy. I will deal with Kefka when the time is right. The New Military Council--"

"Was founded by General Cristophe," she interrupted, "under the direct but secret order of Emperor Gestahl, for one purpose only: to herald your ascension to generalship. Haven't you ever wondered why exactly they did that?"

"I have," I retorted, hoping to follow it up with a rebuke. But Guardian was too quick… too ready to answer.

"Then, no doubt, you also know that Leo lied to you. And if Leo lied to you then it was the emperor who gave him that order to lie to you. The emperor himself lied to you about the slave crown. And Cid hasn't been exactly truthful to you, either." Guardian's words were an affront to me. She knew that I knew these things. She knew that I was in a degree of denial about them. She was rubbing it in now. 

_Damn her fake voice!_

She continued, "It seems to me that the Empire is betraying its very _ protector_ when it is allegedly under attack by rebels. Why would an Empire do that? Could it be because the Empire has no need of protection? Could it be because the rebels are not a threat?"

_Those questions were mine alone. How dare she take them away from me and throw them at my face?!_

"I am not afraid," I muttered with a tensed jaw.

"Perhaps that is the problem. You should be," she said bluntly. "With the slave crown on your head, it doesn't matter whether or not you fear death itself. You will be stripped of your will and be fully controlled by Kefka. In my opinion, that is a fate worse than death."

It was. But I did not need to be told that.

"How do I know that trusting you is safe?" I yelled, springing up from my crouching position. I paced around my living quarter. I manifested my frustration by kicking and shoving furniture that got in my way. I'd much rather have Guardian by the throat while I spoke. Instead, all I had were her fake voice and ghostly presence. "What would be _your_ angle in this? You are so busy about telling me that everybody I know are conspiring against me that you're conveniently neglecting to tell me how you're different from any of them!" 

"For one thing, you wouldn't be alive today if it weren't for me." There was no pause between my question and her answer. She was ready.

Her answer made no sense. How could she have been responsible for my revival? Was she present during the attempts? I had to call her bluff. "It was Kefka and his cult that brought me back to life."

"And that would not have been possible, if I hadn't wrested the reactor's control from him." Again, there was no pause. "The professor would not have been able to save your life. His method would not have worked on you. Your wounds were too severe. So I did the only thing I could. I shut down the lab's reactor to force General Cristophe into letting Kefka take over."

Her responses seemed rehearsed. She had planned for every possible questions or answers that I would have. I was not about to let her throw me off guard. I had to keep the questions going. "So what? Everybody in that room wanted me to live because I am useless to them when I'm dead. You saved my life because you wanted something from me. The question remains: how are you different from them?"

"I am different because I do not wish to control you," she responded with a sudden slowness in her voice. It was almost undetectable. But my senses picked it up. Even with her fake voice, I sensed it. "I am different because, like you and Tina Branford,"--Suddenly, her voice changed to that of a normal human voice--"I… want to be free."

The voice was of a living person. Full of emotion. Full of pain. There was such loneliness in her voice that my heart nearly melted. She was in distress. Her real voice had been masked all those times with a type of distorter that I had been so quick to judge her too harshly. I was beginning to think that I had been dealing with an unfeeling machine. I had forgotten that she was still human. And now she removed that mask. I did not know why, but it caught me off guard. It gave me pause. It made me ponder the words she said last. Had she said the words in her fake, electronic voice, I probably wouldn't have hesitated to scoff at her.

But this was not the time to be too trusting, either. Trusting me with her real voice was a development. I should take it as such and nothing more. It should simply serve as a reminder that she was human. I was up against a human foe. Humans erred. 

"Explain," I said after a long pause. I cursed at myself for easily being distracted. She was still not to be trusted just yet. 

"It is difficult. But in many ways, I am a prisoner of Vector," she replied with her naked voice. It was difficult to estimate her age at the sound of her voice alone. It was definitely feminine, strong, sad, and it still came with that unmistakable tone of loneliness that caught me off guard. It was not a voice that I was familiar with either. As far as my exceptional memory was concerned, she was still a stranger.

"Are you a criminal?" I asked. I felt like I was interrogating her like a prosecutor. Perhaps I was. If so, I certainly did not intend to.

"I _am _now, by your definition of crime. But prior to my _ imprisonment_… no, I was not." I could not detect a lie from the words. She said it with much confident. Perhaps my skill in detection of lies required physically seeing the person in question.

I pressed on. She was willing to volunteer information. This chance may not come again. "Why are you being held captive?"

"My _captors_ do not know I exist. Nevertheless, I am a prisoner here. I am trapped. I cannot break out on my own."

"I do not understand." Really, I didn't.

"I do not expect you to understand," Guardian said with a shudder towards the end of the sentence. It was the closest thing to a sob that I heard from her. She was as frustrated like I was. "The situation is a very long story, very complicated, and I have no way of backing it up."

I had all the time in the world that night. Long stories wouldn't have mattered. I had all the patience with me that night, too. No matter how complicated it was, I was sure I would've understood it all in the end. But I didn't bother to make her tell me her story because of the last thing she said. If she had no way of backing the story up, I just couldn't trust myself to accept them as they were. It would've been pointless. I was receptive, but not trusting. And so I moved on with the next question.

"Where exactly are you?"

"I cannot reveal that to you for my own protection," Guardian answered nervously. Again, I did not detect a lie from the voice. Her emotion was genuine. Her fear was real. I wanted to test this fear that existed in her world. I wanted to learn more of its nature. Very little could be done from my vantage point. But perhaps little would be enough. And so I asked in a sincere, gentle voice nobody in Vector had ever heard from me before, "If you want me to trust you, then you'll have to trust me."

The words gave her pause. Finally, it was her turn to be silent for a few moments in thought. This was something that she was not prepared to react to. The thought made me ponder upon it as well. _How could she not expect this response from me? What is she thinking exactly? Is she weighing the consequences of trusting me? Is she trying to detect a hint of insincerity in my voice?_

The pause finally ended. To my disappointment her voice was again masked with the usual distortion--electronic, impartial and cold. This was where her fear led her. She went in hiding again. "You will learn that trust has nothing to do with being receptive," she said. I knew that all too well. I just hadn't considered the inverse. Like me she was receptive. And like me, she wasn't too trusting. "Perhaps one day," she continued, "I will tell you the whole truth about me… when you are ready to listen--when you are ready to believe."

It was a riddle. To listen and to believe do not happen at the same time. A logical person would listen first, pause in thought, and then decide whether something was believable. _When can one person be ready to listen and believe at the same time?_ I did not know the answer, but it seemed like she did.

"When would that be?" I asked.

"I have pointed you to the right direction. Somebody has taken away her name. Search for it! But be warned… though all questions _may_ be answered, not all questionsshould be asked."

Those were her final words. I would not speak with her again for many days to come. I was on my own until perhaps there was urgency for me to contact her. I knew somehow that at any time I could pick up the microphone and call her name. She would respond to me within seconds. But that wouldn't happen for a while. My pride could not allow myself to depend so much on the words of a stranger no matter how knowledgeable that person might be.

To listen and to believe, to be receptive and to be trusting--these were the boundaries that kept me in line.

********** 

_Personal Log of Lady Celes Chere, General of Vector._

Day Nine of the Celestial Rise.

Timestrike six.

Though my investigation yesterday started with a few dead ends, I have learned much from the most unsuspecting persona--Guardian. 

"You will learn that trust has nothing to do with being receptive," she said to me. I pondered upon those words all night. She was right. One does not have to trust to believe… or to take a course of action. Often times, one only needs direction. Guardian pointed me to the very first clue of the puzzle--Tina Branford.

The piece of the puzzle is not without its troubles. I ran a background check on the name. Tina Branford did exist in the military records. Second Class of the Third Infantry under the direct command of Captain Ronald Wells. I know him. Or rather, I knew him. Further searching revealed that Captain Wells died during the Terra Episode--along with his entire company--Tina Branford included--by Terra.

I cannot begin to describe how confusing this is for me. How can Guardian claim that Terra and Tina Branford are the same person when they were at two different locations at the same time? Terra emerged from a Magitek station that powered the Magitek Armor that shot the deadly bolt that ignited the explosives that destroyed the Magitek Warehouse that Tina Branford was in. Sounds like a song from my childhood years--only macabre. Am I hunting for a ghost? No. I'm hunting for the thief of the stolen name. 

Who was Tina Branford? Who knew her? Where did she come from?

What was Wells's company doing inside that Magitek Warehouse at that time? 

What were those explosives doing inside the Magitek Warehouse?

Why did General Fencross have Warehouse 5 surrounded? What made him believe that Terra was inside? Who made the report?

There are other questions, of course. Questions that concerned my most trusted friend. I will hold those questions for now. I have a trail to follow that is already beginning to grow cold. Professor Brown waits.

**********

Professor Brown's investigation team was busy. I wondered whether they were always like that. After all, I'd seen Cid with his "Look busy!" signal. Looking around me, at the scientists at work, it was difficult to ascertain whether or not they were doing it for real. A handful were reading numbers off documents. Some, still, were looking through microscopes. Others, pushed carts of records and books around. Many of them shot me both curious and nervous glances before returning to their work. I could tell that it was nervousness due to the presence of high authority. Curiosity, due to my age.

I sighed. _If only the military could be like this, instead._

Professor Brown found me first. I was looking through a glass window from the corridor when I felt a tap on my right shoulder. Turning around, I saw him with a courteous smile. 

"General Chere! How are you today?"

"Doing very well, thank you. Do you have the--"

Professor Brown held up a brown folder with a cryptic label on the side. He spoke as he handed it to me. "It didn't take us very long to find it. We keep excellent records of our investigations," he said proudly.

I smiled back and opened the folder. I read through the three-page document quickly, looking for a particular word. Then I found it. It was circled with red ink at the bottom of the second page. "Trinitrotoluene?"

"T.N.T.," the professor answered helpfully.

"I know what it means, thank you," I said, smiling again. He hid his embarrassment with his own. "I didn't know that Vector Military still used that compound for weapons."

"Neither did we. It was too crude and primitive. But, nevertheless, Vector hasn't outgrown its more practical uses."

"Like what?" I asked. Professor Brown simply pointed to the folder. I flipped to the last page and saw another word underlined with the same red ink. "Mining?"

"It's cost-effective," he answered.

"In the military?" I asked.

"Oh, no. Just mining in general."

"So where are they manufactured?" Professor Brown was smiling again. I looked at the last page once more and saw a couple of factories and their addresses. I double checked before I asked the next question, but I couldn't find what I was looking for. "The list doesn't include foreign sources."

"We do not have weapons trade with the outside. Not even T.N.T." 

It would seem that Professor Brown had done his homework. I was very satisfied with his findings. I closed the folder and bade him good day. 

**********

I stood before the ruined Warehouse 5. Nothing stood there that used to be part of the structure. It was more than a ruin. It was rubble--black and shapeless. The ground was burned with intense heat. Scraps of metal melted and fused to the concrete. Surrounding it was a yellow policing tape that forbade entry to the crime scene. The place had been left alone since after the initial search for survivors the day after the Terra Episode. There were none. Everybody in Captain Wells's company supposedly perished in the explosion including Tina Branford. Not only were there no survivors, the remains were also beyond recognition. It was impossible to count the bodies, especially if they had been blown to bits or vaporized in the inferno--mostly vaporized.

I crossed the yellow tape. My boots stepped on a muck of black ash. Rainwater had taken away some of it into the sewers. More remained, however. The only substance that withstood the raging flame that night was metal. The rest would be useless.

I turned around and saw behind me three formations of soldiers and four formations of new recruits. I had called them here today on a cleanup mission. They were to haul away the ashes and to leave everything else where they lay, particularly metallic objects. They were to be cataloged in meter square grids. It didn't matter if they were only as big as a gold coin. If it was metal, then it was to be analyzed.

In the distance, past the formations, I saw the Magitek powering station that the Magitek Armor emerged from. It was about a thousand feet away. That was a lot of ground to cover for a Magitek Weapon. But crossing the distance was not a problem. All it needed to do was shoot its beam and ignite the explosives within. The explosives have been identified--trinitrotoluene--definitely not military grade explosive. This told me many things. One: the explosives came from an outside source. Two: since there were no mining operations within the Bronze Compound, it had no business being in the warehouse. Three: there was more than enough T.N.T. in the building to destroy the bodies of the casualties beyond recognition. Four: explosives that many were transported in secret by a group of people--not just one person.

I stepped outside the yellow line again and signaled to the captains of the formations. Whistles were heard coming from the captains. The formations mobilized, scattered, and surrounded the rubble. The cleanup has begun. But this was just a ruse. I could not hope to learn much from what I would find in the rubble. I had other plans for the day, and they were something I'd be happy to do alone.


	11. The Safest Place in the World

**The Safest Place in the World**

I put on a light military fatigue. There was no need for me to display authority. The place that I would visit needed neither the sight of my cape nor the presence of my insignia. It would be a visit to childhood that wasn't mine. Opening the folder that Professor Brown gave me, my eyes went straight to the fourth page--a page I added after a quick visit to the Library of Records. It was a copy of a very old news article dating nearly twenty years back. The article was about the reopening of an orphanage after an extremely generous donation by Emperor Gestahl himself. It had pictures of the emperor during the ribbon-cutting ceremony surrounded by the happy children of the orphanage. The Emperor looked so serious and out of place among the children. His looks never passed for a father figure. Just a grave, authoritative figure like he had always been wherever he went. 

What really caught my eyes were the other photos. It had a view of the entire orphanage from the front. The building was not what one would expect from an orphanage. It wasn't at all a humble structure. Instead, the building looked like a dormitory of a school. After reading the article, it was actually both… and more! The orphanage had two great halls as sleeping quarters with sturdy beds, warm mattresses, and clean blankets. The orphanage remained warm during the winter and cool during the summer because of a climate control system that never faltered. 

Annexed to the building were three wings. The east wing was the orphanage's exclusive school. It was fully staffed with real, dedicated teachers. The children were provided with all the school supplies that they'd ever needed. The north wing was the health center, staffed with experienced doctors. Emergency medical supplies and children's vitamin supplements were always in full stock in the cabinets. The south wing was a recreational center where children painted on canvases, played musical instruments, read books, or simply ran around in the indoor playground.

The entrance was located on the west side of the building. The whole place was surrounded by protective red brick walls and a swinging gate. The iron bars were bent and shaped to resemble letters and welded on the gate itself. The letters spelled "V.V.O." To my disappointment, the article neglected to reveal the meaning of the letters. But that wasn't important. According to the article, behind the gate was a beautiful garden of flowers, hedges, statues and fountains. The place sounded more like a rich man's mansion. It was a place that was supposed to have existed only in dreams.

The neighborhood itself was a safe haven. Next door to the south, was the local police station. To the north, was the fire department. Across the street was a small trauma center. To the north of the trauma center stood a long line of houses of Vector's veterans. To the south was a small recruitment office for the Vector military. I found the office a bit out of place in the neighborhood. In retrospect, I found the whole arrangement of facilities to be suspicious also.

Clearly, it was the safest place in the world for children. Except for the sad fact that they were orphans, the children must've been happy and carefree most of the time within the walls, protected and cared for by trained teachers, pediatricians and caretakers--all expenses paid for by the generosity of the emperor himself. Though it would sound selfish of me to say so, I might've envied the children that lived there had I been aware of its existence during my years with my aunt.

The avenues of the old veterans' neighborhood were resilient. The homes and streets were clean. It was one of the healthier districts in Vector as if it had been purposefully secluded from the bustling city life. In fact, the place was what I would've consider completely isolated had it not been for a train route that connected it to the city and to the Bronze Compound. I wondered briefly who the city planner was and did a bit of research while I was at the library. I had asked the librarian to find me a map of the area. I needed it to find my way to the orphanage. The map given to me had captured the visual peculiarity of how secluded the place was.

At the center of the map was the swell of steel and concrete structures better known as the City Circle. The area was roughly circular in shape, centering on the busiest commercial sites. To the north of the swell was a moon-shaped area, hugging the top section of the circle. It was what was called, the Industrial Metropolis. Factories of many kinds were located there. A smaller circle on top of the metropolis laid the Bronze Compound like a cherry on top of a scoop of ice cream. Suburban areas lay scattered around outside the boundaries of the City Circle. Most of them were concentrated on the east and west sides of the Circle. However, the Veterans' village was located on the south side--a tiny, out-of-the-way dot. No other villages were near it.

Looking at the map gave me a curious sight of the developmental layout. It seemed to me that the Veterans' village was purposefully developed to be on the opposite side of the Circle relative to the location of the Bronze Compound. If I were to draw a line starting from the center of the Bronze Compound, to the center of the City Circle, and to the center of the small Veterans' village, the sum would more or less be a straight line. I also observed that the Veterans' village was the farthest suburban area from the Bronze Compound.

But these were mere observations, curious as they might look or sound. They provided me with very imaginative thought as the train traveled through an entire diameter of the City Circle. The train stopped at the lonely station. I was the only passenger left. The rest had already gotten off before it left the Circle. I was not at all surprised to see nobody hopping aboard either as I got off. The station was quiet and almost deserted. A ticket attendant sat behind a ticket counter, yawning. The arrival of the train seemed to have awakened him. I felt guilty.

Shaking off the unwarranted sentiment, I started off toward the exit and onto the sidewalks. The brightness of the sun hit me as the clouds parted overheard. It was high noon. I set off walking towards the orphanage, admiring the view on the way. There were plenty of trees along the sides of the streets to provide me shade as I made my short journey. The atmosphere was utterly refreshing.

**********

The line of trees and the well-kept front yards ended abruptly in a shoddy-looking brick house that was the police station. An old man sat on a rocking chair with his feet up on a rickety stool. He was slouched with his arms across his chest, snoring in the heat of the daylight. There was no mistaking his uniform, however. He was a senior peacekeeper. I didn't stop my pace. I knew that immediately past the station was the orphanage itself.

I was wrong. I did not see the wall that was supposed to surround it, nor the gate with the letters "V.V.O." Instead, I saw a big old house besides a rundown brick building. The front yard, though vast, was dry and barren. Neither grass nor shrubs grew. There were no hedges, statues nor fountains. It felt eerie standing there, looking at the forlorn house as if I had just discovered the edge of the world. Scratching my head, I turned to my left and looked across the street. Houses were right across the police station, surrounded by trees. A small white building that was the trauma ward stood there still. Beside it was a smaller structure that was the recruitment center for the Imperial Military. It had a rotting signboard nailed to its door that said, 'PERMANENTLY CLOSED.'

There was no mistaking it. The house I was looking at across the barren yard was the orphanage. But I still could not believe what I was seeing. I opened up my folder again and picked out the article. Holding the article in front of me, I compared the photograph of the orphanage to the real thing--the differences were staggering.

The manor in the picture was no more. Replacing it was a forgotten dwelling with deteriorating roof and corrugated sills. The paint was a sickly color of yellow and peeling. According to the article, it once had a vibrant marigold color. The brick structure was crumbling slowly but surely, weathered by the elements. It was the recreational wing no longer annexed to the poor house. The north building was nowhere to be seen. In its place was rubble. I crossed the front yard to get a closer look. It looked like the north wing had burned down many years ago. The rotting beams and the blackened bricks were proof of that.

But I could not believe that of all the disasters that befell the north wing, it had to be fire. After all… the fire department was right next door--_or not!_

The lot where the fire department was supposed to be was just disturbed, open ground on which no grass grew. It might have been decommissioned, demolished, and bulldozed clear out of the area prior to the fire. The thought was tragic. 

My eyes went back to the house. It still stood, but I doubted that it would last for more than a few more years. The east wing was behind it. From my point of view, I had no way to do a visual update unless I went around the rubble and the house. I wanted to do just that when the thought finally fought its way out of my initial shock.

_Is the orphanage still open?_

I shuddered at the thought. From a glorious haven to a dilapidated dwelling, I felt pity now for those who would possibly be living in the house still. I felt the urge to run up the short steps, break open the door and rescue the poor wretches within from the tragedy that was poverty, if not from the deprivation of their natural parents. I reprimanded myself for even envying them during my stream of thoughts as I read the article.

Instead of running up the steps, and kicking the door open, however, I retained my calm and walked. The door was closed--nothing out of the ordinary there. The windows, I noticed, were barred with iron. I noticed that this was poorly done as if the bars were just carelessly added there. The bars of the closest window had the letters "V.V." It was when I realized that the bars were originally from the iron gate. The "O" had been cut off from the whole picture. I was about to knock on the door when a voice from behind me stopped me in urgency.

"Halt!"

I turned around and saw a woman of about forty, dressed in a smart, black police uniform, carrying a bouquet of yellow flowers--marigolds. Streaks of gray were visible on her short, black hair. Wrinkles were visible on her forehead, and her eyes shone with intelligence and energetic disposition. She stood straight and strong.

"Who are you, and what is your business here?" she asked with a commanding voice. The old man sleeping on the rocking chair in front of the police station woke up with a start and saw the woman. Following the woman's stare, the man spotted me. He stood up, and then he ran to stand behind the woman as if backing her up.

I made no threatening gesture. I walked towards them casually, introducing myself. "My name is Celes," I said. "I've come to talk to the new matron of the orphanage."

The two people glanced at each other quizzically and returned their puzzled looks toward me. "And why would you do something like that?" she asked. She seemed to be in the mood of interrogating me like a suspect. I couldn't really blame her. It was in her blood. I recognized her face as soon as I stepped close enough. 

Her name was Jennina Stromsburg, Chief of Police. I saw her face on the picture of a more recent news article about the explosion that killed Colonel Blaey and Colonel Ranger, and their men. _Twenty years into the past and a hundred miles away from the Bronze Compound, still I find the missing threads of fate that vaguely connect once incident to the other. How very interesting! How does she fit into the tapestry?_

I ignored her question, smiled, extended my hand, and asked, "What's your name?" I only asked the question to stop her from treating me like a suspect to an unsolved crime.

"I am Stromsburg. Jennina Stromsburg. What--"

"Ah!" I exclaimed, interrupting her before she could ask another question. "Chief of Police, Stromsburg. It's such a surprise to see you here. I was not expecting to meet with you in person so soon."

What I said threw her off. Her chain of interrogatives had been broken. She was confused and felt as if she was on the defensive. Her _opponent_ knew something about her but not the other way around. It made her feel vulnerable.

"I-I'm sorry," she said, slightly flustered. "Do I know you?"

"Most likely," I replied with an amused smile. "My name is Celes Chere." I paused to see a reaction from her. However, it was the old man who reacted first.

He raised his eyebrows and then saluted to me. "G-general Chere! I did not recognize you at all. Please forgive me," he said quickly. His salute quickly told me that he was a veteran. Though, no longer in active service, the salute was both formal and traditional. I saluted back with a warm smile. He didn't really need the acknowledgement from me.

"Quite alright, sir…" I said.

"Clive Omil, Lady Chere," he introduced himself. "I was a soldier in my days."

I smiled politely and continued. "I came to this town on a personal undertaking." My eyes went back to Stromsburg. She made no move at all to shake my hand. Instead, she stared at me skeptically from head to toes.

"So _you're_ the new general, huh?" she asked with a tactless attitude. "Mind if I double-check with headquarters?"

"As a matter of fact, I would," I said, still wearing the same smile I offered her. She made a sharp intake of breath, surprised at my blunt and smug reaction. We've only met, and already, I was starting to dislike her. "I'm on a personal leave from the Compound," I started to explain politely. "My being here has nothing to do with my _business_ as a soldier… whatever it may be."

She eyed me suspiciously. My smile was starting to weaken and my patience rapidly grew thinner.

"Well… Gener--"

"Celes," I corrected, firmly. "I introduced myself as Celes. Please call me that."

"_Celes…_" she asserted, struggling to keep her calm. I could tell that she was also starting to dislike me. "I was going to say that being a peacekeeper, I make it my business to--"

"Celes!" This time it was the old man who interrupted her. "Would you excuse us both please for just a second?" There was no need for my permission. Mr. Omil was already skillfully leading Stromsburg away from me. She wore a mask of protest at the idea. When they thought that they were outside of my hearing range, he spoke to her.

"Nina," he said sternly, "The nice general introduced herself politely. She did not come here driving a Magitek Armor. The least you could do is hear her out before you--"

"Mr. Omil, the military no longer--"

"The military may no longer have _business_ here. But she said she came here on a personal matter. What happened was in the past, and you cannot keep on living up to this attitude. It's unseemly," the old man whispered.

"But what about--"

"I'll take care of that. I just need a few minutes. Invite her into the station."

Stromsburg inhaled deeply and sighed. I could imagine how it would feel like to be talked to like a six-year old at that age. It wouldn't be easy. Stromsburg and Mr. Omil approached me again. I waited for them with a raised brow. I did not know what to make of it.

"Celes, Mr. Omil has just reminded me of my unfortunate temperament towards the military. I'm sorry." Her words were sincere though I did not completely understand. She sensed the question in my head, and she opted to answer it before I asked. "Ever since the lockdown, there has been friction between the Vector Police and the Imperial Military. It wears my patience out."

"I see. Well, you have nothing to worry about then, Mrs. Stromsburg. I come here as a civilian," I assured her with a smile of renewed sincerity.

Mr. Omil cleared his throat from behind Stromsburg.

"Would you care to talk inside the station? It's not always a good idea to be under the sun at this time of day," she offered.

I glanced back at the orphanage and declined the invitation. "Thank you, Mrs. Stromsburg. But I'd much rather talk to the matron of the orphanage as soon as possible," I explained.

Mrs. Stromsburg frowned. "I'm afraid that isn't possible," she said.

"Why not?" I asked, concerned.

"Lady Chere," Mr. Omil said, "the orphanage has been closed for almost five years now."

"Closed? But why?"

"The emperor stopped the funding one day. Just like that," Mr. Omil said, snapping his fingers in front of him.

"There was no warning. The children were devastated."

"How terrible!" I swallowed nervously, fearing that I may have just spoken ill of the emperor. "For the children, I mean. Where are they now?"

"The children are fine. Many people in this community volunteered to be their foster parents. The others found a new home closer to the city. It's a new orphanage. Not as beautiful as this one was, but it kept them warm," said Stromsburg.

"Who's funding the new orphanage now?" I asked.

"The hearts of good men and women of Vector."

"How sad… and utterly strange," I muttered.

"What is?" Stromsburg asked.

"That the emperor would be so generous as to build the wondrous things for this orphanage years ago and then decide to abandon it after so many years."

"Very," Mr. Omil concurred.

"Then again, some would say it was strange of him to build it in the first place," Stromsburg added. She bit her lip to prevent herself from saying more.

"What do you mean?" I asked. Even though I was one of those who found it odd, I wanted to hear her opinion.

"N-nothing, really. I don't want to be accused of speaking ill of the emperor."

"What is it that you wanted to talk to the matrons about?" Mr. Omil asked. "Maybe I can help. I remember some of their names, especially the most recent ones."

"Oh, I… er… 'most recent ones?'" I echoed in question.

"Yes. The orphanage hired a different matron every year. Replaced the previous one each time. I never much understood it myself," Mr. Omil explained.

Stromsburg continued the question. "Whom did you want to speak to?"

"I… don't know," I said. That made them both raise their brows. "I didn't know there were different ones. I tried to obtain the names of the children who lived here, but the Library of Records didn't have them."

"I'm not surprised. Those records are sealed," said the old man.

"Surely, you can give us an idea as to which matron you wanted to speak to. Do you remember the year, at least?" Stromsburg asked, trying to be helpful.

"I guess I wanted to speak to the matron who knew a particular child well--Branford. And--"

"Tina?"

"You knew Tina Branford?" I asked Stromsburg.

"Everybody knew Tina Branford. She lived in the orphanage since it was reopened. This was practically her home. Last time I've seen her, she was boarding the train with her belongings. She left this village permanently that day she joined the military. How is she doing?"

I opened my mouth to say the words but held my silence for a few more seconds. I looked into her eyes. I noticed a sparkle in them--a longing of the past, lit by the mention of Branford's name. The truth about Branford was still very much in question. I myself did not know the truth. The reason I came to that village was because of my search for the truth. I wanted to find somebody who knew her very well. I could not very well tell Stromsburg that she was doing okay, nor could I tell her that she wasn't. 

"How did you know Tina Branford exactly?" I asked. Perhaps she didn't need to know. The question seemed to offend Stromsburg. "It's not like that at all," I explained. "It's just that… the message is rather personal."

"I was… one of the matrons who cared for her," she said, hoping that that would be enough to hear the news from me. It was. "For the children," she corrected.

I drew in a deep breath and looked solemn. I read her face. She was getting anxious. "Tina Branford," I said in my most heartfelt tone of voice, "is dead."


	12. First Child of the Marigolds

**First Child of the Marigolds**

To many people, Tina Branford was dead. The right thing to do at the moment was to give Stromsburg that same report. Stromsburg gave out a shuddering sigh. Her eyes watered almost instantly. She put her right hand over her mouth, almost dropping the bouquet of marigolds in the process. Mr. Omil bowed his head sadly and heaved a heavy sigh. His stare fell on the sidewalk

"Excuse me," Stromsburg said, her voice quaking. Her eyes moved rapidly towards the old house. She walked closer to it now, crossing the bare ground towards the center of the yard. I walked slowly out of the way and left her to complete a personal ritual. When Stromsburg reached the center, she knelt down and placed the bouquet on the only remaining rock tile. It was small and was the same color as the ground. I did not notice it myself when I first crossed the yard.

The world was indeed small. I knew then what Stromsburg was doing in the village. She connected two remote events together, but it had nothing to do with the rebel's ambush of the two colonels. Instead, she stood as the stepping stone to helping me learn more about Tina Branford. As a final act of the ritual, Stromsburg uttered a silent prayer to the heavens. Getting up to her feet, she wiped her tears with a white handkerchief she drew from her pocket. She walked towards me steadily. It didn't look like she was going to say something. She was expecting me to do the honors instead.

"You must've been very close to her," I said, breaking the silence.

"Not really," she replied. "I mourn for her now. But I grieve for the children. _My_ children."

I nodded solemnly. "I think I understand."

"I pray for each child's future. I thought I wouldn't need to after the emperor made that donation. Suddenly, the children were left to fend for themselves. The teachers and the doctors… they never really cared," she said, her voice with rising fervor. "After the orphanage closed down, they moved on. Most of the matrons and the caretakers didn't care either," she said spitefully. "The sanctuary built on this ground was a mockery to the children's hopes. They thought they were safe. It was all for show."

"Most of the matrons didn't care?"

"No. They weren't volunteers. They were hired by _who-knows-who_."

"And you?"

"Nina had been wanting the job as caretaker since it reopened," Mr. Omil said behind me. "They turned her down each time giving her different excuses. They said they needed someone with more experience. They said they were overstaffed. They said they'd consider it. Nina even volunteered. She didn't care about the money. She just wanted to take care of the children."

"They turned you down on such a charitable motive?" I asked, puzzled.

"Yes," she said, swallowing a bitter memory. "I was an orphan myself. I wanted to return the favor given to me by my matrons so long ago--my own true, loving matrons. The matrons who were in charge of this orphanage shut the door in front of my face each time. Then one day the orphanage closed. The matrons and caretakers packed up their belongings and left. Just like that!"

"You mean they--"

"They left the children!"

The notion was shocking. I had to be sure. "W-what do you mean _left_?"

"Very early in the morning, they vacated the house and boarded the train all at the same time. The children woke up, and the caretakers were already gone. No food waited for them on their plates. The hearth wasn't lit to warm them up. The classrooms were empty. The sick woke up without their daily medicines. They were abandoned! Cruelest act I've ever seen perpetuated on the innocent children. As if being orphans weren't bad enough, they had to be abandoned again, too."

"But what happened?"

"Nobody knows!" Mr. Omil said. He, too, sounded upset. "I was cleaning the roof of the old station over there,"--he motioned to the building next door--"and I heard a lot of crying from the inside. More crying than usual. Some were screaming. I got off the roof and decided to pay the orphanage a visit and try to see what was going on. I opened the door and I saw the younger children crying. The older ones tried hard to keep them quiet. I couldn't find the caretakers anywhere. They were hungry, they were!"

"Mr. Omil sent a message for me. I ran over as soon as I had heard the news. The place was a complete mess. The local peacekeepers under Mr. Omil's command helped pacify the children. I ran straight to the kitchen. I found Tina there, tired and crying. She was already fifteen then, the oldest of them all. She searched the cupboard for food to feed the children. She held a wailing baby on her arm as she did so. The toddlers tailed her, begging her for food.

"I took over. Clearly, nobody wanted to be with the children any longer. And nobody was there to stop me from helping them finally. Good riddance to those people, I say. Some display of charity!" Stromsburg scoffed. Her hands were trembling with anger. Her memory almost took over. There was so much anger within her. Tears fell from her eyes again, and I doubted that she even noticed. And then, she remembered the present. "Where are my manners again?" she said apologetically. "You came here to tell me about Tina."

"And to learn from you about her," I added.

"I will tell you what I can," she promised, nodding slowly. "I will tell you all that she allowed me to know about her."

"Best you do that in the station, ladies. The missus will be visiting me from the bakery soon. I'd be more than happy to share."

"What a wonderful idea, Mr. Omil!" Stromsburg agreed. "I think I _will_ have supper with you and your wife today. It's been a while."

"So very kind of you, sir. But…" My eyes went to the orphanage. "I was wondering if I could have a look inside the place, too."

"There really is nothing to see," Stromsburg said quickly. "Just the dusty floors. When it finally closed, we even sold the furniture. Time and again, some rambunctious kids would venture inside and vandalize the interior."

"Just a quick look," I insisted. "I can do it alone. You can go ahead and enjoy your meal without me. It won't take me long." I started walking towards the door again.

"But the door is locked!" Mr. Omil said as if in protest.

"I'll find a way inside, thank you!" I yelled back. I got up the steps again and tried the door knob. It really was locked. However, I noticed something about the door knob. It wasn't at all dusty or rusty. It seemed to be still in use. People did still come in to the place. From behind me, I heard Mr. Omil and Stromsburg arguing in whispers. I turned around in time to see Stromsburg hurrying towards me holding up a key in the sun.

"Mr. Omil kept the key to the place," she said. "Let's hope the key still works. It's been a while since this door has been opened."

It was a lie. That much I could tell. I examined her face as she fumbled with the lock and the knob. She looked like she was nervous about something. My eyes went back to Mr. Omil. He stood under the sun on the sidewalk across the front yard. There was something about his stance. He was tense. He watched us fretfully.

The door swung open. It made no sound.

"So how long has it been?"

"Two years," she answered.

_Another lie._

They were both acting strangely. I had to admit that the signs were very subtle. Normal people would've shrugged it off their shoulders. But not I. Not after my transformation. I had been more observant especially when it came to human behavior. I wasn't a psychologist, but my interpretations were almost always correct.

"Thank you so much," I said. "I promise I won't be long."

"You know what?" she said quickly. "I've been afraid to enter this house since it closed down three years ago. But I think it's time for me to pay a visit." She sighed resolutely and nodded. "Yes… Let me join you."

"If you wish." I smiled and turned back towards Mr. Omil. He was nowhere to be seen. My eyes scanned the entire length of the sidewalk looking for him.

"He must've returned to the station," Stromsburg said when she noticed my small concern. "He'll wait for us in there with the food." Turning back to the inside of the house she motioned for me to enter. "After you, Celes."

I entered the house. The air was warm. It smelled of dried wood--not necessarily the rotting kind. The light from the windows allowed in sufficient light. The place looked bigger from the inside especially now that it had been cleared of furniture. The floorboards creaked a bit as I proceeded slowly, admiring the fine work done on the interior.

"Goodness! It certainly withstood the elements, hasn't it?" she said.

She was right. The outside appearance of the house lied about what it preserved in the inside. There was very little sign of disrepair. It was almost as if someone had been maintaining the interior all those years. A layer of dust on the floor was now disturbed by our intrusion. Cobwebs floated about like ghostly curtains. Harmless house spiders skittered above on the ceiling. A mouse ran across a hallway and disappeared into the fireplace. I was in the living quarters. It was spacious. I could imagine comfortable chairs facing the fireplace during story-time for the children in the winter, huddled together warmly under their cozy blankets.

"So what's V.V.O. stand for?" I asked, remembering the letters on the picture.

"Vector Veterans' Orphanage. Uninspired name, I know. This entire community was really supposed to be an ideal veterans' retirement place. But the children here have named this place 'The Marigolds.'" Stromsburg swung the door open wider. "I think I'll leave this door open to let the fresh air in," she said. Her voice echoed mildly. "Follow me into the kitchen."

I did. It was beyond a long hall that I presumed to be the dining hall. The kitchen was half the size of the dining area. An old sink and stove still stood there. I doubted that the faucet still worked. The stove probably still worked except that the chimney might be clogged during all those years.

"I found Tina here," she said, sighing. She pointed to a corner where the cupboards were. "It was the first time that I spoke with her. It was rather strange actually."

"What was?" I asked.

"She was crying when I saw her with the baby and the toddlers. When I took the baby from her, she hugged me and cried louder, saying, 'I'm sorry. I'm sorry. It's all my fault!' The poor child thought she was to blame for what happened. I assumed it was a panic attack. She had been having them since that day."

"Did she have this condition prior to that?"

"Yes, she did. When I took over the place I went to the north wing. The doctors that used to treat the children there had left their records. I read them all. Of course, I knew at the time that it was illegal to read records like that. But who was there to stop me? Nobody wanted to care for the children any more. And it was important to know what was going on with each child. I needed to know which child required medical attention."

"Do you remember Tina's?" I asked.

"Yes." She gave me a look as if debating to herself whether she could trust me with such information. "I suppose it doesn't matter now that she's passed away. Not to mention the fact that I'm not a doctor breaking patient confidentiality." She started to walk slowly outside the kitchen to wander aimlessly into the other parts of the house. I followed. "Her condition was more psychological than physical. According to Tina's files written by her child psychiatrist, she was detached from the others. She kept quiet most of the time. She spoke very little. But that didn't stop her from finding her own ways to interact with the other children. She did special chores for the caretakers. She started helping more around the house and caring for the children. When I took over, she became my assistant." Stromsburg stopped before a grand staircase and faced me. "So… um… how did she…?"

She couldn't finish the sentence. I obligingly answered her unfinished question. "The Terra Episode." Stromsburg stiffened and frowned. "She was one of the first who perished. She… died quickly." I didn't know why I said the last sentence. I didn't know why that should matter.

"So the rebels got her," Stromsburg uttered. It was more of a statement than a question. "I heard the person responsible is behind bars," she said matter-of-factly. There was no hint of hatred in her voice.

"Awaiting trial," I lied. I had to. It was the kind of information that was released to the public.

Stromsburg started going up the stairs. Again, I followed behind her.

"I didn't know suspects were given trials." There was something about her voice. It sounded sarcastic. "At the very least, they were interrogated. Tortured, perhaps?"

I bowed my head slightly. I picked up on what she was getting at. "The Military overreacted, Mrs. Stromsburg."

"They still are."

"I agree. But that is going to change."

"Oh?" Her sarcasm was thicker now. I couldn't blame her. Being Chief of Police, she was closer to the civilians of Vector. Perhaps more understanding. No doubt she had heard about suspects being rounded up and interrogated. I knew that most of them were innocent. I knew that _she_ knew that. "Do tell, Celes."

"I took over," I said succinctly.

"I'm sorry?"

"I took over the matters. It's my mission. The reason the military acted so impulsively was because they were in disarray," I started to explain.

"You mean the military panicked," she said in her attempt to correct me.

"We lost a general. The attack was so close to the Bronze Fortress."

"And you took it out on the citi--"

"Not me," I said sternly. "The military did. I was opposed to the whole idea. Many of the soldiers were. You have to understand this. We were merely following orders. This was before I became general."

"And now that you are…"

"I ordered those interrogations and unnecessary violence stopped. There will still be martial law, however. This much is necessary until we can justify its removal."

"I'm sure," she said, turning away from me.

I reached out my hand and caught her right shoulder. She stopped climbing the stairs and faced me again. "We're not all cold and unfeeling, Mrs. Stromsburg. I'm taking over Fencross's mission and things _will_ change. Didn't you make the same promise when you took over the orphanage?"

Her cold face melted into an apologetic smile. "There is much courage and truthfulness in your eyes, Celes. I will never understand why they chose you as the new general. But I believe you."

We resumed our journey to the second floor.

"What else did Tina's files say?" I asked.

"She kept getting those strange dreams."

"Dreams? What kind of dreams?"

Stromsburg shook her head. "I don't know. She couldn't describe them. She told me that she started getting them when she was about six years old. I checked with the files. It did say that. She said something about a voice in her head. A voice that called to her. It terrified her at first. The doctors asked what the voice told her. Tina couldn't say."

"That was when she was much younger?"

"Yes."

"What about when you became matron? Did she say anything to you about the voice?"

Stromsburg nodded slowly. "I woke up once in the middle of the night. I thought I heard Tina's voice. I thought she was calling for help. I rushed to her room, and she was having a nightmare by the looks of it. I had to shake her hard to wake her up. She was scared. Her eyes looked at me like she didn't know me. 'Stay away!' she cried. She fought with me. I struggled to calm her down. She spoke gibberish, too. Yet, she spoke them with such clarity that you'd think they were real words. Foreign words."

"I thought she was born and raised here in Vector."

"She was. She had never set foot outside of Vector. It must've been due to her panic attacks."

"So what happened next?" I asked. The story made no sense, but I was deeply intrigued, nonetheless.

"She calmed down that night finally. She went back to sleep. The next morning, I asked what she dreamed about. She told me the exact same thing that the doctor wrote on her files. Only that time, she said there were _voices_. More than one. She told me that her dreams started out with just a voice. But as the years went by, more and more joined the chorus in her head… calling to her."

"Calling her to where?" 

"She didn't know. She couldn't understand. She said they were speaking in a different language. It was then that I mentioned that _she_ was speaking in a different language. She just shrugged it off. She said that they were just silly dreams." Stromsburg led me to a room. "This was her room. She slept here when I took over. My room is farther down the hall."

I went inside eagerly. The first things I noticed were the broken pieces of glass on the floor by the window. A telltale rock was in one corner of the room. The glass window had been broken for many years now. A spider had built its home in the hole in the glass as if trying to fix it with its meager capacities.

Stromsburg shook her head in disgust. "Those vandals! They have no respect for property." 

I nodded my head, agreeing to her vaguely. Aside from the rock and the pieces of glass on the floor, the room was empty. I went over to the window and looked outside. Stromsburg continued to recount stories of the recent vandalisms perpetrated to the orphanage. I didn't pay much attention to it. Instead, I concentrated on the view. I could see heavy clusters of trees beyond the property line of the orphanage in the distance. The east wing was visible, too. Supposedly, it was the school. An array of windows lined it. They had bars on them making them look like a detention center. Looking down on the ground, I caught a glimpse of Mr. Omil walking towards a small door entrance to the school. I saw him pull out a key from his pocket. Using it on the door, it opened. He cast a paranoid glance around him before entering the building.

"At least, the new residents of this place have more respect!" I heard Stromsburg say.

I turned around curiously. "New residents?" I saw Stromsburg grinning at something on the floor. I followed her gaze and saw a mouse peeking out of a loose floorboard at the very corner of the room. I walked slowly towards the corner. It wasn't at all the mouse that attracted me to that spot. I wanted to look at the floorboard.

"Shh! Careful or you'll scare it away," Stromsburg said, adoring the small rodent. "I remember a time when a mouse ran across the dining hall. It created such bedlam that…"

I tuned her out. I examined the floorboard from a distance. It looked like that it could come off easily. I reached out to confirm my thoughts. The mouse sank back into the hole. 

"Oh, pity! It's gone now. I dare say that after that chaos in the dining room, I couldn't recall a time when the children were that happy," she said chuckling. "Say… what do you have there?" Stromsburg moved in closer to the corner.

I pulled the floorboard off. It wasn't that hard at all. It wasn't even nailed to it. Placing it aside, I saw a small empty compartment. One could fit small things in it. This particular one was empty, to my disappointment.

Stromsburg chuckled again. "Yep. You'll see things like that in almost all of the bedrooms. The children liked to have their secret places to keep their treasured belongings in. I suppose if there was a child who'd most likely have one, it'd have been Tina."

"You think she used to hide things in here?" I asked, after replacing the floorboard.

"Most likely. I remember that she kept a journal. She wrote on it so religiously. I don't know what about, though. But she wrote on it like she had traveled around the world and had all sorts of interesting stories to tell."

"Do you know where this journal is now?"

"She took all her belongings with her when she left for the military. I doubt that she'd leave her only valued possession here." 

Stromsburg turned to leave the room. She wanted to move on to see the rest of the house. I stood up and followed. She led me through the long hallway of bedrooms. She took a quick peek on each of them. They all looked the same--empty, dusty, and on some occasions, littered with broken pieces of glass. We were headed to the north side of the house. We both stopped before a barricaded door.

"What's wrong with this one?" I asked.

"That door used to lead to the north wing. Of course, as you may have noticed from the outside, the north wing is no more."

"What happened?"

"It burned down. 'Twas a case of arson."

I gasped. "Was anybody hurt?" I asked, thinking about the children.

"Oh, no! The children were already out of this orphanage when it happened. Of course, it was still tragic."

"Didn't the fire fighters next door respond quickly enough?"

"The fire department was the second building to be decommissioned after the orphanage. The empire pulled out their funding, too, stating that it was too expensive to maintain it. And then the police station followed."

"But the station is still here."

"Only because there were volunteers to keep it functioning. Most of the patrons were veterans who live here. Their sons and daughters became volunteer peacekeepers. The trauma center across the street closed down after another year. Then this neighborhood raised their own small clinic south of here, closer to the center of the community. The people here are proud of what they've accomplished. I know I am."

I looked at the barricaded door longingly. "Did they catch the people that did this?"

"I'm afraid not. Mr. Omil next door didn't really think much of it afterwards. They believed that it was possibly just some punk kid who got carried away with playing with fire. In which case, the culprit wasn't a real threat. Besides, we didn't have the manpower to launch an intensive investigation."

"I don't suppose you still have those children's records there," I said hopefully.

"'Fraid not," she said, shaking her head. "They all went up with the fire."

_It was a pity. And how utterly convenient._ I so would've loved to see the doctor's observations on Branford's dreams or other things. It seemed, however, that everything in the area had been decommissioned, one after the other. "I noticed that the recruitment center has closed down, too." 

"That one was the last to go. It closed down the day Tina boarded the train to join the military."

"Please tell me more about that. Was it really her dream to be a soldier?"

"As strange as it might have sounded coming from her lips, yes. People from the recruitment center used to tell her that her parents were Vectorian heroes who died in the service of the emperor. I didn't catch the names of her parents, but the stories brought pride in Tina's eyes. One day, I sat down with her as she was eating alone in the dining hall. I asked what she meant by what she had said the first time I saw her in the kitchen. I asked why she was blaming herself for what happened. She said that she dreamt it before it happened."

"Before _what_ happened?"

"The staff abandoning the house. Her dream somehow told her the future. I doubted that very much, of course. I was more worried about her thinking about such things."

"The voices _told _her?"

"I asked her the same thing. She said that a different chorus of voices told her. The Three Kindly Voices, she called them."

_Three Voices?!_ I thought. What could Tina Branford know about…

"What exactly did the Three Voices tell her?"

"According to Tina, the voices told her that she couldn't stay in the orphanage very long. That she would have to go north for whatever the reason. She didn't fully understand it herself. But she said that, somehow, her destiny waited for her there. At that time, I thought about seeking professional help in the city for her."

"Then what happened?"

"Nothing much after that. Except she started thinking more about her parents. It was as if she had been given a purpose or a goal in life that she could pursue. I suppose that was a good thing. Not a lot of the orphans had that. Tina started asking me questions about the military every night, as if I could answer all of them."

"What sort of questions?"

"Oh, you know… 'What is it like to be a soldier?' 'Would they accept a woman in the military?' 'Would _you _be okay working alone at the orphanage?' Things like that. Of course, I encouraged her to go after her dreams. Nothing would make me happier, really, to see every one of _my _children making something of themselves and being happy about it at the same time." Stromsburg looked into the past and recalled a memory. "She had doubts, however. She was afraid. She didn't know what to expect. The doubts kept her from leaving. But then, every night, the Kindly Voices would whisper to her. Tina said that they eased off her doubts and filled them with longing. Until one day, she was no longer afraid. 

"She gave me a brief hug at the train station. Even after the hug, she still seemed distant. I told her that if she ever needed a place to fall back on, she should never hesitate to contact me. Then she smiled at me and said that the Kindly Voices told her that she'd be alright. I made a remark that perhaps two of the Kindly Voices were the voices of her parents. That made her smile some more. They were her inspiration.

"I didn't cry when she left. I felt a bit sad, but for some reason, I couldn't quite grieve for my personal loss. Much like I couldn't really mourn for her now after telling me the news of her death. The tears I shed outside weren't really for her. It was for the memories of the orphanage in general. There was just something about Tina that prevented me from acting out the stronger emotions. It's really hard to explain."

I nodded thoughtfully. I clung onto her every word. Even Stromsburg found it curious that I listened to her intently. "You know," Stromsburg started to say as we backtracked down the long hallway, "you never told me how you were related to Tina."

Indeed, I haven't. "No relation. The first time I've heard of her was when I started the investigation," I said truthfully. "She was already dead," I added, sadly.

Stromsburg raised a brow. "Really?" she said nonchalantly. "I thought you told me that your being here wasn't _business_?"

I sighed and didn't hesitate to answer. "I'm doing an investigation about Tina Branford, yes," I admitted. "But it's a personal investigation."

"Interesting. What's so special about Tina that caught your attention, Celes?"

"While I was doing my investigation about the first strike, her name came up. I will not say how exactly because that information is confidential. There are certain pieces of the puzzle about the whole thing that didn't seem to belong into the equation. Tina Branford was one of them. I'm just here, I guess, to clear things up."

"Was she a suspect?" Stromsburg asked worriedly. 

"I cannot say," I answered softly. "But I have this feeling that she knew something important before she died. If she did, I want to know exactly what it was… if only to clear her name. There's a threat in the air about a traitor in the ranks. It's my job to find out if this is true."

"My Tina could not have been a traitor," she said in a loving, faithful voice.

"Are you sure about that, Mrs. Stromsburg?" I asked. It wasn't a question brought about by disbelief. It was a call to reconsider the possibility.

Stromsburg nodded firmly. "Yes. I am very sure," she said with a sad smile.

I smiled back. "I believe you. But I still think she knew something."

She nodded in understanding. "If she did, I'm willing to bet that she wrote it down on her diary."

"I've already checked her personal belongings. She didn't have too many. But I didn't see any journal among them."

"Oh, that's too bad." 

The two of us exited the orphanage. She locked it with the same key she used to unlock it. The noontime sun still bore down on the village, endangering those who couldn't tolerate the heat. Stromsburg continued to tell me what happened next. Though it did not concern Tina Branford, it did concern the children of the orphanage.

"They simply couldn't stay here after that. Once again, the orphanage needed to be closer to sources of charitable acts. We moved them all to the city. An aid organization there took them in. I, on the other hand, was recruited by Mr. Omil to be his deputy. I continued my training in the city until I became the Chief of Police there. I never really pictured myself to be one holding a sword when I was little. But look at me now!" she exclaimed with bright humor.

"I got you beat," I simply commented. That made us both laugh in good spirits. 

The time for me to return to the Bronze Compound came quickly. I did not join them for supper. I thanked them both and boarded the train back with echoes of thoughts in my mind.

_"The children liked to have their secret places to keep their treasured belongings in. I suppose if there was a child who'd most likely have one, it'd have been Tina… I remember that she kept a journal. She wrote on it so religiously… She took all her belongings with her when she left for the military. I doubt that she'd leave her only valued possession here."_

**********

I returned to the Bronze Compound. Five soldiers waited for me at the train stop at my request. I ordered them to follow me. Together we marched straight to Branford's old quarters. When we arrived there we found that it was already occupied by a new lieutenant. I couldn't allow that to hinder my search.

The door opened before me. A lieutenant still in his training uniform saluted.

"Lieutenant, step out of the room please," I ordered. He did so without question. I had no need to explain myself. "Take everything out!" I said to the five soldiers. They moved quickly. The lieutenant stood silently behind me, watching as the other soldiers carried his things outside of his quarters. He was nervous. He did not know what to make of this surprise inspection of his room… by a general.

After a few minutes the five soldiers reported back to me. "It's done, General."

I went inside the room. The soldiers followed including the lieutenant who was still scratching the back of his head. The place had been cleared of his belongings, including the bed. What was left inside was the carpeting. I pointed to it and ordered all six of them to tear it off the floorboards.

They all enacted on my command quickly. I was sure that they had questions in their mind. But they were right of them to keep silent about it. Even the lieutenant pulled on the carpet with all his might, tearing it off the floorboards, yanking out the staples, nails and adhesive that kept it on the floor. After that was done, the six of them rolled the ruined carpet and carried it outside. They went back inside room and waited for my next command.

I pulled out my sword and walked to the farthest corner of the room. I prodded on the floorboard with my sword at the corner listening to a hollow sound. I went to the next corner and did the same thing. The floorboard moved. It was loose. I raised my sword above me and struck the board once. The board split and splinters flew. The board gave way easily.

The board revealed a compartment similar to the one at the orphanage. Inside were two things. A metal black box and a small book with the initials _'T.B.'_ on the cover. I took both of them from the compartment, and after thoroughly checking the rest of the corners of the room, I gave the astonished soldiers their final order.

"Put everything back the way it was."

With that I left exited the room with the mysterious black box and Branford's journal.


	13. Prying Eyes

**Prying Eyes**

My office was almost empty. I had not yet had the time to decorate it. To be truthful, I had no plan to do so. The New Military Council had been courteous enough to provide me with the office to make me feel at home. The carpet was royal red. The walls were velvet black. It really served the purpose of readily displaying trophies, medals, plaques, and other sentimental objects of achievements. So far I'd achieved very little. Hanging the dagger that killed me on the wall seemed like an insult than a feat. Technically, I died that day. But if there was something in my possession that deserved to be on the wall, it would have to be Tina Branford's diary. Unfortunately, that would only be a sign of personal achievement. It wouldn't be outwardly impressive to those who would gaze upon it. Nonetheless, I hoped that Tina Branford's journal would answer a lot of my questions. I couldn't wait to read it. 

I sat down at my desk getting ready to read her journal when somebody from outside my office knocked on my door. I closed the journal and hid it in my desk drawer.

"Come in." A sharp-looking soldier entered my office carrying several folders under his left arm. He had close-cut blond hair, a sharp nose, and deep blue eyes. He saluted, and I promptly acknowledged. I'd seen him before. My memory was still fresh. He was the same person who warned Cid about my first visit to Magitek Lab Alpha… and failed to mention the name of the new general. "Lieutenant Skarman. What a surprise!"

He smiled back. "Lady Chere, General Cristophe has ordered me to be your temporary personal aide to assist you in any tedious clerical task that you may have. I'm honored to oblige. If you have questions, I will answer them. If it is beyond my knowledge, I will research them for you. You will find that my expertise on many military-political proceedings to be extensive. I will not disappoint."

He spoke quickly and eloquently. I could tell that he was not easily daunted by multiple tasks. Working with the most notable general in Vector must've given him the experience he'd ever need in a lifetime. I was flattered.

"Thank you very much, Lieutenant."

He bowed reverently, and wasted no time. "These reports arrived at my desk while you were gone. I believe you made a request for them."

"Reports?" I asked, confused.

"The preliminary report on Warehouse 5, background checks of the colonels, reports on the meatpacking plant, the two explosives factories--"

"Ah, yes! I did not expect that they would be sent to me."

"I took the liberty to have them sent to your office after seeing your schedule for the day," he replied.

"My schedule?"

"Y-yes," he replied. My ignorance on the matter made him uneasy. "You noted them down on your computer."

My eyes widened in realization. "You read them?"

Skarman swallowed nervously. "Was I not supposed to? I assumed that since I was to be your temporary aide I could--"

"Yes! Of-f course," I interrupted nervously. "My itinerary. Forgive me. I did not expect anybody else to be reading it."

"It _is_ public knowledge to personal aides by default. My security access card grants me rights to it unless otherwise specified," he said pulling out a card from his pocket.

"I understand. Tell me, Lieutenant Skarman, what did you see on the itinerary?" I found no way to ask the question inconspicuously.

He was alarmed at the question. He read my mind. He knew then that there were things on the list that he should not have seen. "W-whatever it is that you say I _did_ see," he answered dexterously. I could tell that he'd kept secrets before for General Cristophe. I assumed it was part of the job.

I frowned. I made sure that he noticed my disapproval. I stood up from my chair, walked around the desk, across the room, past the lieutenant, and to the door. I had a glimpse of the other people working outside my office--my own secretarial staff hired by the New Council. I closed it with deliberate care. I turned to him slowly, wearing a dangerous look. He was nervous, I noticed.

I approached him, reaching for the folders. He obligingly handed them to me. My eyes, however, remained fixed on his face. 

"I do not wish to make this unpleasant for you," I started to say calmly, "but unfortunately, the message wouldn't be the same if I were to simply write to General Cristophe."

"Do I not meet your expectations, General?" he asked softly.

"That is the problem, Mr. Skarman. I had none. General Cristophe made no mention of you being my personal aide," I said in a dangerous tone of voice. Even I was fearfully anticipating the moment when I would lose my temper.

"I-I understand, General."

"Very good, Lieutenant. And now I want to make sure when you return to General Cristophe--"

"Back to Doma?" he interrupted. He bit his lip when he realized his error.

I glared at him. I inhaled and sighed heavily. His eyes were apologetic, but I did not heed their request for instant forgiveness.

"Yes," I repeated dourly. "Back to Doma! I want you to tell him that though I appreciate the gesture of lending me a helping hand from the other side of the world, I do not like the idea of decisions being made without my consent most especially when the decision itself concerns _me,_" I said firmly. Skarman opened his mouth to apologize, but I squelched the words before the air reached his voice box. "Thank you, Lieutenant Skarman, for your help. Please deliver my message to General Cristophe. Tell him that I've made quite a bit of progress in my mission, though it's only been my second day.

"T-the general would want to know what progress you speak of, Lady Chere," he asked. His inquisitive nature was forgivable.

"Tell him that that information is highly confidential even for his own personal aide," I hinted.

"Very good, General Chere!" he replied in comprehension.

"Good! Now, just so we understand each other, Lieutenant, there was _ nothing _on my itinerary. In fact, you haven't even seen it. Is this clear?"

"Yes, General Chere."

"You were never here. We've never had this conversation. It was not you who handed me these reports. Is this clear?"

"Yes, General Chere."

"Now ready your self. I am reassigning you to General Cristophe. You are to board the first ship to leave for Doma. Dismissed!" 

He left my office hastily. As the door opened, I noticed that the people outside were facing my way, expectantly. Apparently, the door did nothing to prevent my voice from being heard from the outside. The gawkers quickly went back to pushing papers. I didn't even have the slightest idea what those papers were for. Finally, the door closed behind Skarman. I was left alone in my office once again.

I didn't know whether it was paranoia or my heightened sense of alertness. I needed to be away from that place. A place where I could read the journal in private. Furiously, I crossed the way back to my desk and took hold of the journal and the box. Then I stormed out of my own office, leaving the bewildered staff behind. I was tempted to fire them all on the spot, but I thought better than to call more attention towards myself.

********** 

"Postpone?" Cid asked dubiously. "Are you feeling well, Celes?"

"Of course," I answered without hesitation through my comm device in my quarters. "It's just that I'm really busy with the preliminary reports from my investigation. They need to be sorted out as soon as possible."

"If that's what you want, Celes. I suppose I can have the magic infusion chamber ready for tomorrow."

"Tomorrow would be fine, Cid. Thank you. Oh! And may I make a special request?"

"What is it?"

"I was wondering if we could possibly skip to Invisibility."

"Sure thing, Celes. That won't be a problem at all. May I ask why?"

"Let's just say that it would help me in my investigation."

"I think I understand. I'll write the request up for you immediately."

"Thanks again, Cid."

"Goodnight, Celes," he said softly.

"Wait!" I said quickly before his signal died.

"Yes?" he asked.

I couldn't help myself. I had to ask. "How are you feeling today, Cid?"

There was a short pause. "Rather well, Celes. Thank you for asking."

"Are you sure?" I asked again.

"W-why wouldn't I be?" he asked, chuckling nervously.

Obviously, he was intent upon hiding the truth about his secret meeting with Kefka. "I, er… I heard that you got hurt yesterday."

"Oh, that!" He laughed to cover his nervousness. "There was an accident in one of the experiments that we were conducting. I was wearing the proper protective gear. I'm fine now, Celes. It happens all the time. There's no need to worry." He paused, thinking. "How did you find out that I was hurt?"

"Word of mouth," I answered, sounding indifferent. "I'm glad to hear that. I'm sorry that I haven't had much chance to visit you lately."

"You're a general now, Celes. I understand," he replied thoughtfully. With that, we both turned off our devices. 

He spoke so convincingly as if his meeting with Kefka never took place. I never would've suspected a thing if I weren't never there to witness it. I had reservations about the fact that he was still not completely honest with me. I thought it was very clear that the slave crown was for me. I wondered if he was wrestling with his own demons as we talked over the radio, fighting to find the courage that would make him give up the charade. In any case, I was glad that he was alive.

My room was safe from many prying eyes and probing ears, except for Guardian's. But there was little I could do about that. She was the one who encouraged me to follow this path of investigation. I doubted that she would try and stop me now. I wondered if she knew about the journal.

I shut all the doors and windows of my quarters. I had a lot of reading to do. But first, the black box tugged at my curiosity most for it required only a quick look, unlike the journal. I sat down at my desk and pulled the box closer to me. I opened it with care. To my disappointment it was empty… but not entirely empty. Inside was a foam material molded to cushion delicate objects. It didn't take me long to figure out what they were. I had seen boxes like those before, as I walked the streets of the City Circle.

The box, I believed, once held a necklace and a pair of earrings. These items weren't on the list of items that once belonged to Tina Branford. This meant that, like the journal, they were probably hidden somewhere still. _ Could she have been wearing them when she got caught?_ I made a note of it on my itinerary. This time, I restricted its access to be completely exclusive to my self alone. 

I set aside the box, making room for the journal. It had no seal for me to break. Just a red ribbon to keep it closed. Before unraveling it, I examined the journal. It was definitely hand-made. Most likely, it was a school project. The hard cover was made of regular cardboard cut out from a box, wrapped with measured brown textile fabric. Unraveling the ribbon, I opened the journal. The leaves of the diary were made of homemade paper, cut carefully on the edges. The pages were purple. She must've added in the purple dye while mixing the ingredients of paper before drying. The edges were sewn together quite expertly with strong strings before being bound with the cardboard covers by glue. A smaller pink ribbon stuck out from the top of the spine and served like a bookmark to the last entry.

I opened the journal to the pink ribbon's separation. It only seemed logical to read the last entry, right before she 'died_._' To my dismay, the writings were indecipherable. The alphabets she used, perhaps the language also, were foreign to me. They were written with deliberate strokes of a pencil--_and with tiny symbols_. Stromsburg was so sure that Branford was born and raised in Vector. 

_Where did Tina Branford learn the symbols?_ I wondered. After a moment of thought, I realized that I held the answer in my hands. I flipped the pages back, tracing the chronology of her cryptic life back in time in a matter of seconds. The very first page showed words in normal Vectorian alphabets--_still in the same tiny letters_. All I had to do next was figure out when Branford had decided to use the symbols. 

_ Perhaps it would show me the date, or even the key to deciphering it,_ I hoped. _Maybe, she was in the library at the time, reading books of translated languages. Maybe, she wrote which language it was._

I found the exact date of the transition. Reading it quickly, I figured that she started using the symbols immediately after joining the Imperial Military. Clearly, she was not going to make it easy on me. What I wanted to know was hidden behind her secret code. 

But I got this far simply by starting from the beginning. 

_I have all night to live her life and learn._


	14. Vomammoth in the Room

Vomammoth in the Room

"Postpone?" Cid asked dubiously. "Are you feeling well, Celes?"

"Of course," I answered without hesitation through my comm device in my quarters. "It's just that I'm really busy with the preliminary reports from my investigation. They need to be sorted out as soon as possible."

"If that's what you want, Celes. I suppose I can have the magic infusion chamber ready for tomorrow."

"Tomorrow would be fine, Cid. Thank you. Oh! And may I make a special request?"

"What is it?"

"I was wondering if we could possibly skip to Invisibility."

"Sure thing, Celes. That won't be a problem at all. May I ask why?"

"Let's just say that it would help me in my investigation."

"I think I understand. I'll write the request up for you immediately."

"Thanks again, Cid."

"Goodnight, Celes," he said softly.

"Wait!" I said quickly before his signal died.

"Yes?" he asked.

I couldn't help myself. I had to ask. "How are you feeling today, Cid?"

There was a short pause. "Rather well, Celes. Thank you for asking."

"Are you sure?" I asked again.

"W-why wouldn't I be?" he asked, chuckling nervously.

Obviously, he was intent upon hiding the truth about his secret meeting with Kefka. "I, um... I heard that you got hurt yesterday."

"Oh, that!" He laughed to cover his nervousness. "There was an accident in one of the experiments that we were conducting. I was wearing the proper protective gear. I'm fine now, Celes. It happens all the time. There's no need to worry." He paused, thinking. "How did you find out that I was hurt?"

"Word of mouth," I answered, indifferently. "I'm glad to hear that. I'm sorry that I haven't had much chance to visit you lately."

"You're a general now, Celes. I understand," he replied thoughtfully. With that, we both turned off our devices. 

He spoke so convincingly as if his meeting with Kefka never took place. I never would've suspected a thing if I weren't there to witness it. I had reservations about the fact that he was still not completely honest with me. I thought it was very clear that the slave crown was for me. I wondered if he was wrestling with his own demons as we talked over the radio, fighting to find the courage that would make him give up the charade. In any case, I was glad that he was alive.

My room was safe from many prying eyes and probing ears, except for Guardian's. But there was little I could do about that. She was the one who encouraged me to follow this path of investigation. I doubted that she would try and stop me now. I wondered if she knew about the journal.

I shut all the doors and windows of my quarters. I had a lot of reading to do. But first, the black box tugged at my curiosity most for it required only a quick look, unlike the journal. I sat down at my desk and pulled the box closer to me. I opened it with care. To my disappointment it was empty... but not entirely empty. Inside was a foam material molded to cushion delicate objects. It didn't take me long to figure out what they were. I had seen boxes like these before while I walked the streets of the City Circle.

The box, I believed, once held a necklace and a pair of earrings. These items weren't on the list of items that once belonged to Tina Branford. This meant that, like the journal, they were probably hidden somewhere still. _Could she have been wearing them when she got caught?_ I made a note of it on my agenda. This time, I restricted its access to be completely exclusive to my self alone. 

I set aside the box, making room for the journal. It had no seal for me to break. Just a red ribbon to keep it closed. Before unraveling it, I examined the journal. It was definitely hand-made. Most likely, it was a school project. The hard cover was made of regular cardboard cut out from a box, wrapped with measured brown textile fabric. Unraveling the ribbon, I opened the journal. The leaves of the diary were made of homemade paper, cut carefully on the edges. The pages were purple. She must've added in the purple dye while mixing the ingredients of paper before drying. The edges were sewn together quite expertly with strong strings before being bound with the cardboard covers by glue. A smaller pink ribbon stuck out from the top of the spine and served like a bookmark to the last entry.

I opened the journal to the pink ribbon's separation. It only seemed logical to read the last entry, right before she 'died_._' To my dismay, the writings were indecipherable. The alphabets she used, perhaps the language also, were foreign to me. They were written with deliberate strokes of a pencil--_and with tiny symbols_. Stromsburg was so sure that Branford was born and raised in Vector. 

_Where did Tina Branford learn the symbols?_ I wondered. After a moment of thought, I realized that I held the answer in my hands. I flipped the pages back, tracing the chronology of her cryptic life back in time in a matter of seconds. The very first page showed words in normal Vectorian alphabets--_still in the same tiny letters_. All I had to do next was figure out when Branford decided to use the symbols. 

Perhaps it would show me the date, or even the key to deciphering it, I hoped. _Maybe, she was in the library at the time, reading books of translated languages. Maybe, she wrote down which language it was._

I found the exact date of the transition. Reading it quickly, I figured that she started using the symbols immediately after joining the Imperial Military. Clearly, she was not going to make it easy on me. What I wanted to know was hidden behind her secret code. 

But I got this far simply by starting from the beginning. I have all night to live her life and learn.

* * *

AUTHOR'S NOTE: At this point, I invite all of you to read an optional chapter entitled "The Orphanage Days." It features selected entries from Tina Branford's diary including Celes' annotations and personal observations.

The diary is recommended reading, but still optional. I felt it best to keep it apart from the main story to avoid the disruption of the continuity of Celes' POV.

Read it now in the fanfic section of www.lastmagicite.net page.

Thank you.

* * *

_ Personal Log of Lady Celes Chere, General of Vector._

Day Ten of the Celestial Rise.

_ The word 'unique' is an understatement. I am unique. Tina Branford was--is--special. Lonely, confused, enigmatic... but special. Special enough to be cared for, protected, and controlled. _

She lived her life as an observer, apparently, watching others in their activities, wondering and pondering as the day passed by. She avoided long talks with the other children and developed little relationship with them. This was not to say that she was cold and indifferent. In fact, she was sympathetic and sensitive. The silent type. A close-mouthed smiler and a quiet crier. She was prone to inexplicable lapses of depression backed by a disturbing psychological ordeal that manifested itself in dreams.

How terrifying that must've been for her, to be plagued by frequent nightmares. Haunted by calling voices that did not belong even in her memory. Visions, even! Auguries of the future. I could scarcely believe the accounts. Did she imagine them? Was her mental stability off the acceptable boundaries when they occurred? Did she make them up? It certainly was easy to believe that she was crazy... or near the edge, at least. I was ready to discontinue the reading until she mentioned the Three Gentle Voices.

It was one thing for Tina to hear voices and see images that did not belong to her memory, but it was an entirely different matter for her to hear voices and see images that belonged to mine! The thought was unsettling, and yet, so very real. What connection could she have with the Voices? What connection could she have with similar dreams involving the Three?

I was in denial for quite a while. Shaken. But somehow I found the courage to admit that she and I are very much alike. Tina found the soldier's life appealing. I find it the same way. She longed for the truth of her past. Though I would never admit this to anybody, I am more than curious about mine. Her body was snatched away from her consciousness. I died and was revived. She heard Voices, and so did I. She was in the dark like I am now. She had contact with Guardian as I do now.

I hope, however, that the similarities end there. She walked a path off a cliff, and here I am, tracking her footsteps in the dark. Yet, it is all that I can do to prevent my own demise. These I learned by reading her journal. 

Unfortunately, I found none of the much needed specifics that would help me with my investigation. My hope to learn how to decipher her coded writing was lost. It turned out that it was not a slow transition. Rather, it was as abrupt as turning off the only light in a windowless room. 

Her decision to disguise the words came at the most suspicious time. Her paranoia was not a coincidence. Her first entry as a new recruit was shrouded. There was something about this place that she felt she needed to hide from. Yet, she stayed here like she had no choice.

This looks, to me, like another dead end. A visit to the Great Library should solve my problem. There are scholars who pore over books of ancient text. Perhaps, one of them could translate the rest of Tina's journal for me.

I logged off my journal, and as soon as I did so, I received an electronic message--from Guardian. It was the first time that she had signed a message. It wasn't all that surprising, though. She thought that she and I were on _ tolerant _terms. 

She might be right.

I stared at the screen. It was waiting for me to open the message. I was impressed at her reserve, this time. She could've simply flashed the message itself onscreen. Absolutely nothing hindered her to do so. Nothing, except losing my deference in its capricious state. So, instead, she gave me a choice between reading the message now or later.

I sighed as I tapped a key loudly. The screen displayed the message in an instant. It was short.

Tina Branford kept her journal well from everybody. Why should you trust the scholars? Show me the pages, and I will translate for you.

I scoffed silently and shook my head. Clearly, her subtlety could use a lot of work. 

Branford hid her diary from you, too. Why should I trust you?

Her response was quick. 

Fair enough. Show me one coded word and I will translate it for you.

I was skeptical**. **

What do you know of ancient text?

What made you believe the symbols are ancient in nature? 

I paused. The question ignited a curious consideration. Why had I thought it to be ancient? I knew it was just a guess, but my gut feeling was telling me to jump to that conclusion.

I answered.

They had a certain feel to it. 

I am an expert translator of any language of any time.

Can you juggle, too?

I take it, by your cynicism, that you are not interested. Let me know when you change your mind.

If, Guardian. If.

* * *

A stack of books hid me from sight like a child playing behind a make-believe fort. I had them delivered to my office from the Great Library of Vector. I trusted Guardian's instincts, if not her offer. Branford's journal was not meant to be seen by my eyes, let alone the eyes of those who were strangers to me. If she were still able, Tina would fight me for her journal, not trusting me. Why should she? I was nobody to her.

Already, I felt guilty having spied upon her past life. It would've made a difference if she were really dead. But she was not. I saw her with my own eyes. My rationale was weak. Tina Branford would never have approved of me. But if she would not have trusted me, at least, I knew that I had to trust my self.

My actions were noble. True, I did it for my self, too. I would not want to end up to where she was now. However, this intrusion into her private life warranted an apology whenever possible.

The covers of the books were dust ridden. The leaves were tattered. Often, I was afraid to turn the pages in fear that they would crumble between my fingers. But time was of the essence. Quickly, I scanned the pages of the books, scrolls and other written media for the symbols in Branford's diary. In my attempt to decipher them last night, I had all the cryptic characters imprinted in my mind. All I really needed to do was compare the symbols with the printed texts. No reading was necessary.

Reading or not, the task was rather involving. My intrigue was quickly growing into an obsession. I was so engrossed in the task that I jumped to the strong knocks on the door.

"Come!" I answered, wondering who it could be.

"General!" the visitor said, saluting.

I stood up and saw Colonel Llurd wearing formal attire. He wore his medals on his chest proudly. The sight of them made me uncomfortable, for there he was, saluting to me--a general with no honors.

I was stunned. _What is he doing in my office without an appointment? _ All I could ask was, "Is something wrong, Colonel?"

He looked at me in perplexity. "None at all, General. Why would there be anything wrong?" 

"For one thing, you're here without an appointment," I said bluntly.

"I was not expected, General?" he asked, astonished. "I requested for this meeting in advance."

"You did?" I asked as I checked my computer quickly for my itinerary. _Did you schedule your own execution, too, Celes? You dolt! When did you agree to this meeting? _ My itinerary did not have his appointment.

When Llurd sensed that I was at a loss. He had been prudent not to be obvious about it, but I sensed that he rather enjoyed the fact.

"I had called early yesterday to request an audience," he started to explain. The word 'audience' normally served to flatter. I felt he was being sarcastic about it. Being the man that he was, however, he carefully hid the slightest hint of expression. "Your personal aide had the grace to accommodate my plea."

Raising a brow, I took a deep breath and smiled wearily. "Ah, yes. It all makes sense now," I muttered. "Skarman."

"Yes, that's him," he confirmed. "He instructed me that I was to assume that the meeting would take place if he did not call me that same day to let me know otherwise."

There was something about how Llurd spoke. It was as if he were not telling the whole truth. His words sounded rehearsed. Then again, maybe it was just his natural articulacy at play. It was rare, I thought, for a man of action to have the air of diplomatic eloquence about him. This, I could already tell, and we hadn't even begun the core of our conversation yet. I had a couple of suspicions about the basis of expressiveness. The convenience of his presence and timing were not coincidental.

"Yes," I replied flatly. "I do not blame you for not having received that call."

He blinked, acting slightly puzzled. "Should I not have come, General?"

"I did not say that," I said as I parted the tower of books on my desk with my hands to allow a line of sight between him and me so I could sit back down on my chair. "It's just that it would've been cordial and proper for the both of us if I were in the light about your arrival--which I was not." I sat back down and skillfully closed Branford's journal without calling much attention to it. I slipped it in the side drawer just as invisibly.

"I am confused, General," he said plainly, without sounding apologetic. He didn't even sound or looked confused when he said it.

"I sent Lieutenant Skarman away. To be precise, I sent him back to Doma and declined his aid," I explained matter-of-factly. "He did not meet my expectations," I added for effect.

"Indeed? I would've thought that General Cristophe's very own aide would be more than qualified for the job," he commented. I wasn't sure if he was judging my decision or if he was attempting a small talk.

"He proved otherwise, Colonel Llurd. I'm not saying that he was incompetent. Just that he failed to do the most proper thing to do before starting to work for me. And I suppose I should add the most proper thing to do _after_ working for me--tie up loose ends, like this meeting, for example. I wonder what other surprises he left for me."

"I'm curious, General. What was it that made you let him go?"

"He failed to introduce himself. As you can imagine, I hate surprises," I said, hinting at the tragedy of my _past _life.

The Colonel looked flushed at what I had said, as though a grave accusation had been set against him.

"Had I known, General. I swear--!"

I interrupted his defensive impulse by holding up my hand. I walked around the desk towards him. "At ease, Colonel, for you are a man who needs no introduction," I said. I held out my hand to shake his. He extended his own and I took it with both of mine and shook it. He seemed caught off guard of the act. It was as if he was expecting resistance from me rather than welcome. "You did not think that I would remember your face, Colonel, I see. Rest assured, I remember yours quite vividly during the ceremony--when you pushed Beigeletter out of the way in your attempt to save my life. I owe you my thanks, Colonel. Thank you." I said each word strongly and sincerely.

"You are too kind, General. But I remember that day quite clearly, too. I saw you die before my eyes. I was too late to save you. I failed."

"Nonsense!" I exclaimed, letting go of his hand. "The fact that I live right now is proof of your triumph." I started to walk back towards my chair.

"I do not understand."

"I saw Beigeletter hold up his sword after we had both fallen off the platform. It was an executioner's stance. He meant to deprive my body of my head. Had he succeeded, magical revivification would not have helped me at all. A grisly thought, I'm sure, but I am not bothered by it any longer. Soldiers shouldn't fear death, magic or no magic."

Llurd simply nodded.

I sat down and motioned for Llurd to do the same. "We both agree to fault our dismissed mediator for the awkwardness of this meeting. Why don't we just get right down to it? What brings you here, Colonel?"

"When I heard that you were to take lead of the investigation, I knew that it wouldn't be long until the New Council granted upon you the charge of leading the retaliation. I just wish to let you know, General, that you have my confidence and full support. My men and I are anxious to receive our assignments. Should you require assistance, know that we are at your disposal. I am more than happy to provide you my records for review, as well as the records of each of my men."

"I greatly appreciate taking the time to make this formal declaration, Colonel--"

"Please, General. Call me Harold."

"If you insist. As I was saying, Harold, you are the first of the remaining colonels to come to me and graciously declare support. I dare say, you will probably be the only one."

"You underestimate the colonels, General," he said, smiling.

"Oh, but I was not implying... _that._ But I am also not naive. My ascension came as a great, big shock to the Military. Not a lot know that I shared the surprise with everybody else. Needless to say, their doubts are well-founded--yours included."

The last sentence seemed to have put the Colonel at unease. He sucked in his breath, searching for a wise response, but I relieved him of that task.

"There's no need to hide it, Harold. Many sought this position. I know that everybody expected you to attain it, myself included. Then, General Cristophe reformed the Military Council overnight with a secret motive that came from the Emperor himself. They chose me, and believe it or not, I resisted--"

"General, there is no need to make an apology. I--"

"Apology? You are mistaken, Harold. You see, I am not even _authorized_ to make an apology. But I do owe everybody an explanation. Unfortunately, voicing out this explanation plainly would be mistakenly heard as an excuse and would definitely not resolve the issue that exists between me and the Military."

"Issue?"

"Reservations, Harold, to put it mildly." I paused and leaned forward, clasping my hands together and placing my elbows on the desk. "How do you conquer doubt, Harold? How do you extinguish them from the hearts and minds of your troops?" I asked as an equal.

His answer was but a word that said a lot. "Experience."

"Exactly," I said softly, nodding. "That is part of why I'm here. I have a lot to prove to the Military. And I need to prove it in the only language that they understand."

Llurd caught the title of one of the books on my desk and curved his lips. He looked charming with a perilous air. "I seriously doubt that ancient Vectorian would make much of an impression on them."

"What? Oh!" I chuckled. "These...? They are part of my investigation."

He looked skeptical. I could not blame him for that. What could primitive Vector language possibly have in connection with modern day Vector problems?

"I see," he muttered softly. He took another uneasy glance at the books on my desk. "The investigation seems to be taking a lot of your time. If you wish, General, you may charge me the responsibility of hand-picking your staff. You will find that I am quite particular in my interviews. You will not find the recruits as disappointing as Lieutenant Skarman," he offered.

"Thank you for the offer, Harold. But I'd like to do that on my own when the time is right."

"Begging your pardon, General, but I do find one thing troubling," he started, shifting his position. "You are supposed to be leading the investigation."

I waited for him to say more, but apparently, his thought was complete in the matter. I did not understand it. "Yes?"

"I do not wish for you to take this the wrong way--"

"No," I insisted. "Speak your mind. What is it that you find upsetting, Harold?"

"It's just that most investigative leaders don't actually do the... investigative part. They simply coordinate--decide on the next course of action, and let the resources available to them do the job."

"I know what you are trying to say. But I'd like to get more involved than that for many reasons I'm not inclined to mention to anyone," I explained, leaning back on my chair.

"That is a great idea, General. But do you not think that the scholars would better perform this particular task? Your presence might be needed elsewhere."

"This particular task may seem trivial, Colonel, but it's not. I trust no one better suited for the task than I," I said sternly. "But your concern is well noted. This task--" I said, motioning to the books "--will not take long at all. I expect to be done in an hour." Llurd looked dubious. "I don't read them, Harold."

Though that provided an answer to his first question, it only opened newer ones. He was wise enough not to pursue the topic further.

I stood up from my chair, and as he was about to follow my lead, I motioned him to stay on his. I walked towards the window behind me and peered out. It gave me a view of half of the Assembly Ground. It was not as spectacular as Leo's view was, but I held no sentiments about it.

"I expect that you have something else to say, Colonel. Your reputation of being a man of action precedes you."

Llurd cleared his throat before he spoke, "You read me well, General. I've already given my formal declaration of support. But if you would grant this soldier a bit more audience, I'd also like to make a few suggestions about our assignments."

"I'm all ears, Colonel," I said without looking away from the window.

"The Military hungers for action. It can't stand being idle. They are eager to take part in something, if not the investigation."

"Are the border patrols not enough for them?"

Llurd scoffed, but cleared his throat immediately as if in apology. "They see it as an insult, General. They wish to do more."

"They want to march to battle. That's what they are all eager to do," I said plainly. It was an accusation that I hoped Llurd would not meet with resistance.

"That they do," he admitted. "But they know that is not possible just yet. They are asking for an active participation. Not a passive one."

I turned towards him again. "Such as?"

"I propose to extend our search beyond our borders."

"Beyond? You mean Maranda?"

"Affirmative, General."

"Maranda is an independent nation, Llurd. Has the Military forgotten this already?"

"I was not suggesting that we march to the nation recklessly, General. We would need their consent, of course."

"They would never allow it. No leader in their right mind would open their gates to armed Imperial troops for whatever the reason."

"A bit of persuasion would be needed, granted. But it can be done."

I was appalled by the idea, but I needed to maintain my poise in the matter. "Who would be doing the persuading? The Emperor is not present at the moment."

"Indeed. Our top diplomatic representative at the moment is you, General. However, I'm more than willing to take the charge."

_I bet you would,_ I thought. 

"And should they agree, what would you have the Military do there?"

"Same as what we did within our borders, General. Searches, interrogations--"

"Does the Military call this wisdom, Colonel Llurd? The only type of persuasion that will open Maranda's gates to us is that of a threat. I'm afraid that this plan of yours is reckless. So far, Vector has no reason to believe that Maranda or any other independent nation is directly responsible for the atrocities committed within our borders."

Llurd nodded. He did not resist. Instead, he asked a question. "What do _ you _think we should do, General?"

_ The dreaded question arrives, at last. The Emperor and the New Council charged me with a mission, and this is the start of it. Time to man the fort, Celes. You have the Military's ego to crush._

"The Military will wait, Colonel," I said firmly and clearly. "That is their order. Remind them that if it is too much for them, they may abandon it at their own peril."

I waited for Llurd's response, both spoken and unspoken. His poise did not betray him. He was calm. And I was impressed.

"I will let them know, General. They also would like to know when the witch would be tried."

"The witch?"

"Terra."

"There will be no witch-burning in Vector, Colonel," I answered, matching the analogy. "She is out of my hands. Tell me... why do you call her a witch?"

"Not I, General. We've first heard of the name from the civilians. I gathered that when they discovered that she was a magic-user and that she had not receive any magical infusion from Vector, she must've gotten her powers through some other means. They aptly named her the witch. Fitting, isn't it?"

"Indeed," I muttered.  
Llurd stood up and straightened his uniform. "I will not waste any more of your time, General. Please remember that we are at your disposal."

"I will keep that in mind, Colonel. Thank you."

The colonel saluted and left quickly, but quietly. There were no pleasantries. Not that I expected one. I sat back down on my chair and swiveled it around so I faced the window again. I took a deep breath, held it for a few seconds, and then, released.

_That went well. Reserved, articulate, and bold,_ I evaluated. _I was unable to read him fully. What a dangerous man!_

I spun the chair around once more and faced my desk. I turned on my computer to read whatever development Professor Brown's lab might have sent me. As soon as I've logged in, the screen flashed a sentence. Undoubtedly, it was from Guardian.

It read simply: **Llurd never spoke with Skarman.**


	15. Secret Meetings

Secret Meetings

Llurd exited the building and slid into the shadows of an alleyway. He walked slowly, his senses for danger burned from within him. Turning around he saw Tayan in dark green cloak, unmoving.

"How did it go?" Tayan asked simply.

There was a moment of hesitation. "It went well. You were right about your predictions. She disapproved."

"Of course. Any officer with half a brain would've disapproved. But I'm curious to hear about your impressions of her."

Llurd inhaled slowly and began. "My expectations were all wrong. She spoke with authority as though she's had it for years. For a moment, she had me believing it."

"For your sake, you will respect her authority as such. She is not a fool."

"She's still only a woman… and a child, at that," Llurd commented, shrugging.

"No, she is not!" Tayan said harshly. "The moment you lose yourself to that illusion would be the end of your usefulness to us."

"Usefulness?! Don't talk to me like I'm a second-rate minion! I do this for myself. Remember that!"

"We've eliminated two colonels, but there are others, Llurd. _You_ remember that!" Tayan returned.

Llurd muttered something under his breath.

"Never mind! Submit this to the New Council." Tayan pulled out a folder of documents from beneath his cloak. Llurd took it from the cultist, confused.

"What is it?"

"It's a report fabricated by the greatest minds of our Order," Tayan explained. "Think of it as a declaration of war against Maranda."

* * *

I have two important leads for you. The first is a secret meeting that is going to take place in the orphanage. The second is more important. If you want to retrieve the necklace that was in Branford's box, tonight is your chance. Unless you can be in two places at the same time, you must choose one. I strongly suggest that you choose the latter.

Why? What's so important about that necklace?

I stole that necklace from Kefka's acquired collection of secrets. He is not yet aware that it is missing. Tomorrow, that may change.

You didn't exactly answer my question.

Choose one, Celes. Lives depend on that necklace.

* * *

"Congratulations on your promotion, _ Lieutenant _Keep," I said, smiling proudly at him in the dark.

"General? I don't understand," Jasom replied, trying to pinpoint my exact location in the shadows. I stepped out of the corner of the room of the abandoned recruitment center. The pale moonbeam that sifted through the barricaded window revealed my face to him. "Why have you led me here? What is this place?"

"This place? It used to be a recruitment center some fifteen years ago. Right across the street" I said, pointing through the gap in the barricaded north window, "is the orphanage called the 'Marigolds' -- the safest place in the world."

Keep peered out through a substantial gap in the barricade and saw what he perceived, at first, as a manor. The lack of sunlight hid the shortfall of the structure from his eyes. As he spied on the orphanage from where he stood, I pulled out a dusty, wooden chair from a corner and placed it at the center of the room where the moonbeam fell.

Having heard the creaks of the old furniture, Jasom turned to face me again. I motioned for him to take a seat. He did so, reluctantly. "Why was I summoned here, General?" he asked again, nervously.

"Why else would one be in a recruitment center, Lieutenant? I'm here to recruit you," I answered, still smiling, "as my only trusted Personal Aide."

His mouth opened to say something, but his voice never made it out. He was having a moment of realization. He shifted his position uneasily, making the chair creak loudly. He wanted to stand up, I observed, but my order held him down. His eyes rolled to the left, recalling a recent memory. Then, he started shaking his head slowly in disbelief. "It was... a test**," he whispered, almost inaudibly. "It was all a test," he repeated a bit louder. "But why?" he asked, returning his eyes to me.

I frowned and made sure that he saw it. "I had to make sure that I could trust you. That's why I had you go through with the scenario. It was the only way I could be certain."

"Certain of what, General?"

"Certain that you're not one of them."

"One of whom?"

I sighed loudly, unable to decide where to start my story. Then, I just thought I'd get right to it and hoped to finish it without much confusion on Jasom's part.

"My life is in danger, Jasom. More than I initially thought when I woke up from that institution."

"Are the rebels that close, General?" Jasom asked with furrowed brows and a face showing genuine concern.

"If these were _only_ about the rebels," I said with the usual tone for wishful thinking. "I'd have no problem at all. But, no, Jasom. I have uncovered something worse." I looked into his eyes. He was eager to hear it. "There is a conspiracy."

"Y-you mean... the rebels have gotten on the inside? Are they--" He stopped when he saw me shaking my head gravely.

"The rebels have nothing to do with the conspiracy," I said plainly and then waited for the meaning of the sentence to sink into his absorbing logic.

"You're saying that there is another internal threat besides the rebels?" he asked slowly. He seemed intrigued but confused, as well.

I nodded vaguely. "There are greater forces at play, Jasom."

"Forces?" he asked, astounded. "You mean more than one?"

Again, I nodded. "Greater forces and greater struggles done in secret. The rebel threat pales in comparison with... this conspiracy."

Jasom's face showed uncertainty. He was probably wondering whether what I was telling him now was still a test. After some thought, he had found his next question. "Who are they?"

I inhaled deeply and looked out through the window and to the moon. I noticed a thin cloud floating across the silver circle, reducing the brilliance of the moonbeam that filtered through the barricades. Turning back to Jasom, I said, "I've identified a few key _players_ in this conflict. But I am still uncertain as to how they all fit in. Kefka," I said, to start off with my list. Jasom didn't seem to react with the mention of his name. It seemed that he was willing to believe _any _alleged wrongdoing to be perpetrated by the emperor's prime adviser. "General Cristophe," I continued. At this, Jasom frowned but said nothing. "The New Council, and the emperor himself."

Jasom blinked in confusion, most especially at the last person on my list. He shifted his position uneasily. The chair creaked loudly. He wanted to stand up. He wanted to walk away and place a distance between himself and me. I could only imagine what he was thinking at the time. He was probably judging my mental health. I died and was brought back to life. Everybody knew that. Everybody also knew that those who were brought back to life through the usual means of revivification suffered either permanent psychological disorders or none at all. I was almost certain that he was doubting my mental health at that moment. It seemed more logical than my conspiracy theory.

"Please speak your mind, Jasom. I speak to you as an equal like I always have," I said gently. "You're thinking that I'm suffering from paranoia, aren't you?"

"Well, I--it's not that, um...I just--" He fumbled with the words through the air of awkwardness. He was as I remembered him that one rainy day. I smiled warmly to show that I meant what I said.

"Let me put it this way, Jasom. I wanted you to be here to hear me out. And you wouldn't be here at all if you hadn't questioned... everything."

He was quiet for a brief moment, choosing his words carefully. "It's just that this is all too much to take in at once."

"Then continue to question," I suggested thoughtfully. "You're a very cautious person. You're not afraid to step back and think. So continue at it. Stay close to me and observe both me and what I have to show you. See everything first hand. It's the only way that'll convince you, isn't it?"

At this, I paused, stunned at what I said. Suddenly, Guardian's approach at persuasion seemed logical and forgivable. This new perspective made me shudder. Jasom was reluctant to believe the truth coming from me. And I was resisting Guardian's assistance. _ There has to be a quicker way to establish this trust._

"Considering how all these were totally unexpected, I'd opt for a slower pace for a change," he answered, his voice seemed tired.

"I will not be asking you to risk your life, Jasom. I just need someone I can trust during the investigation--someone whom I can be sure would never stab me in the back the first chance they get."

Jasom was thoughtful for a long moment. Something was making him reluctant, still. _He's perfect,_ I thought.

"What exactly do you want me to do?" he asked. There were many other questions in his mind. I knew that. But this was the opener.

"You will assist me in the investigation. You will be my personal aide. You will do what are expected of personal aides. I know it seems simple enough, but I cannot trust other people to do this. I simply cannot allow strangers to get too close to me during my investigation," I answered readily.

"Is that all?"

"I may ask you favors that you may refuse should you deem it unacceptable, inappropriate, or risky."

"I'd like to have all of my options, please," Jasom said softly.

"Or you may go back to how it was before. I would be forced to strip you of your new rank. The New Council granted me your instant promotion under the condition that you would work for me as a personal aide. If I could have it my way, I'd let you keep those stripes. But as you know, the New Council is adamant about procedures now."

"I was not even thinking about the promotion, General," he said apologetically.

"Of course, not, Jasom," I said gently. "It's only a matter of formality between the people you trust."

Jasom didn't budge. He needed time and room to think about it. I had no problem with that idea. I had said all that I could. As if on cue, a light appeared from one of the rooms of the Marigolds. I saw it through the cracks of the barricaded window. Jasom noticed that my attention had shifted elsewhere. He stood up, slowly turning to face the orphanage. 

"People still live there?" he asked, curiously.

"No," I began. "The orphanage has been closed for years now." I walked past Jasom, closer to the window. I peered through it longingly, wishing to be inside. "Guardian was right again. A meeting is taking place within."

"Who's Guardian? What meeting?"

_My questions exactly._

"Vanish." 

* * *

I left Jasom in the abandoned recruitment office with instructions. I told him that should he decide to accept the job on the spot he should sneak into the Marigolds undetected and spy upon the meeting taking place. If not, he could return to his fiancée in Maranda. The Invisibility spell I cast on him should help him carry out either.

I wanted to be in that secret meeting. Guardian had sent me a message about it earlier, pointing out that it might be worth investigating. She left out the details. It seemed that even she was in the dark about it. Unfortunately, Guardian urged me to choose between going to the Marigold meeting, and running an errand for her in exchange for critical information. Guardian spoke as if she were advertising a limited-time offer service.

I wanted to do both. I hoped that Jasom had accepted the job. I'd know in the morning.

"You chose correctly, Celes," Guardian assured through the earpiece. 

The path was lit by bright lamps atop posts. More had been added to cover the Bronze Compound since the attacks. The Spitfire patrol circled slowly above with their searchlights focused on the remainder of what was left unlit. I feared none of their watchfulness as I walked. The magical barrier I had cast on my self granted me the freedom.

My destination was a well-known crime scene. It was where Terra's MegaArmor exited the building shortly before igniting Warehouse 5, conveniently killing everybody that ever knew Tina Branford in a flash. Guardian's mission was an odd one. She had asked me to find a necklace hidden within the powering station. According to Guardian, the necklace had a special ruby-like gem that was worth all the gems in the world. I found her exaggeration amusing. Terrestre Esperizium, she called it. I did a bit of research on such a gem. The library had nothing in its massive volumes about the special mineral.

What a supposedly special gem was doing inside a powering station was beyond me. But Guardian seemed very sure that it was hidden inside. She wanted me to retrieve it for her as soon as possible. Every fiber of my instinct initially disagreed with the mission._ Why waste my time looking for a trinket in the middle of the night?_ Then, I remembered Tina's empty jewelry box. I assumed that the necklace might have been hers.

"This rock better be worth it," I said, trying hard to sound convincingly upset as though I had been asked to do something completely unimportant. I did not want Guardian to know that I had suspicions about the gem.

"It is. And the information that I will give to you will speed things up in your investigation, as well." 

"Tina must've treasured it so much that you're making me risk my life for it. Why?" I asked. My voice was just loud enough to be heard by Guardian. The building looked like a regular warehouse except that it was used for docking Armors. It had a massive spherical conduit up in the ceiling where tendrils of cables snaked down like dead vines. The conduit was a node to one of the underground Magitek reactors. It had to be. The only Magitek reactor built above ground was the one that blew up about two days prior to Terra's incursion of the place.

"The gem is a source of great power," Guardian answered. Though vague, it was the type of information I didn't want just anybody to hear. I was surprised at her reckless trust in me.

"Great power, huh? Why, then, should I retrieve this gem for you? How can I be sure that your hands aren't two of the wrong sort?" I asked as though attempting a small talk with her.

"I have no need for such power. And the gem by itself is useless to anybody but its owner."

"Terra?"

"Branford," she corrected.

I was intrigued. "I suppose I could keep it safe for her," I said, simply to hear Guardian's reaction. I was expecting her to object to the idea--hoping, even. I found myself disappointed.

"My thoughts exactly."

I scoffed. "Aren't you worried that I would just keep it for my self?"

"Not really. The gem and the owner are meant to be together. They will be reunited sooner or later… one way or the other," she said with such confidence, that I was able to detect it through her electronic voice.

"Oh, really?" I said cynically. "How is that possible with her being a mindless shell?"

"A prophecy."

I rolled up my eyes and nearly cried out in exasperation. _Conspiracies and prophecies. I'm not living in a mystery novel--I'm in a fairy tale! _

"And she is not exactly mindless," Guardian added.

"I beg your pardon?"

"The slave crown has two functions. Originally, it was supposed to suppress the consciousness of the slave. You kill the consciousness, you kill the person mentally. The body would still be able to survive for a short time but not for long. The second function prevents the body from failing by replacing the consciousness that it suppressed with its own programming."

"Like replacing her mind with that of a robot?" I asked, trying to follow.

"Correct."

"You said 'originally.' What changed?"

"The first function--I preserved her consciousness, but I also let the programming to take over her motor functions. It wasn't difficult to do."

My first reaction was to ask how she did it. But a horrible thought emerged from the unasked question. I froze in place and gasped. "Y-you mean… she's aware?" I asked. My voice was almost inaudible.

"Affirmative."

My mouth fell open. My eyes stared blankly into the dark, drawing in my vivid memory the image of Tina Branford within the 'snow globe' of a capsule. _She's conscious and without control of her body! What a horrific way to keep her prisoner!_

"Celes, are you well?" Guardian asked, after I gasped for breath a few times. The thought was overwhelming. My pity for Tina Branford increased. Even though she was still a suspect, nobody deserved to be imprisoned like that.

"Celes," Guardian called again.

"I-I'm here…" I answered with a wavering voice.

"I take it that you are greatly concerned for her mental status. Yes, I know that it can be quite maddening to be a prisoner of your own body. Never to move, speak, nor sleep on your own. Even the toughest soldier can crack after a certain amount of time in the 'hole.' I may have saved her consciousness, but insanity is something I have no control over."

"What can we do to stop it?" I asked, trying not to sound too concerned. "She deserves a trial, at least," I added as a weak afterthought.

Guardian ignored the last comment. "The terrestre esperizium will help her focus. It has special properties that only Branford can unlock."

"Unlock? You mean it's magical?" I asked.

"Of course. What did you think I meant by 'source of great power?'"

_What indeed?_

"I thought you simply meant to say that the mineral was a special component in some kind of a weapon."

"Remove the blindfold from your eyes, Celes. The Empire can conquer the world with its current technology without the need for magic. And yet, they haven't done so. Why do you think that is?"

The question was elementary. I spoke without thinking. "The Empire has no such vision of world conquest. We seek global accord."

"We?" Guardian echoed. "Oh, Celes. Your eyes aren't blindfolded. They are closed."

The remark enraged me, because I knew that I deserved it. I could've said the exact same words to my self, if she hadn't beaten me to them. But I was not about to let her win this one. I had to say something back. Anything.

"Did Branford suffer your sermons, too?"

A normal person would've just let the line slide. It was a rhetorical question. Guardian never failed to disappoint my expectations.

"No, she did not. She took them all to heart.

After convincing myself to voluntarily concede to the petty contest of who should have the last word, I walked the rest of the way in silence. It turned out that I didn't have a long way left. 'No Trespassing' the tape said in bold, block letters. It bordered the entire structure, thanks to my team of investigators. This was it--the compromised power station. 

Two guards were posted to keep watch of it overnight. It was a dull assignment for them--one that I deemed necessary to designate. It felt wise to have the crime scene guarded during the course of the investigation just in case. Had I known that I would be the one to encroach, I wouldn't have bothered to give them the assignments. 

Still, the guards weren't much of a problem. Moving silently was all it took. Both guards weren't on high alert. They were talking among themselves about the usual rumors of the impending retaliation against the rebels. Debris still littered the scene, most of it originating from the ruined wall--the make-shift exit for the hijacked MegaArmor. 

According to my Intel team, an explosion from the inside made the hole, but it was not due to any known weapon or explosive device. They simply could not find residual energy readings that could tie it with the MegaArmor's weapon. The Intel team and I came up with the same theory independently. The explosion was due to magic.

The theory was later confirmed by Guardian. _'Terra Episode Mystery No. 36' solved._

The prime question of the Terra investigation concerning the powering station in particular was this: If the hole was a forced exit, then where was the forced entry?

Security log had nothing of the sort. It was as though Terra had been waiting inside for the signal to begin her rampage. The Empire didn't believe that, of course. An intruder could not be perceived as somebody who was too undetectable, else the integrity of the security team and the morale of the citizens would be decreased. And so, they left it as a mystery.

I entered the building through the hole only because it was convenient. There was no activity inside. Power usually routed to the building was severed. The dark that enveloped me made my magical barrier unnecessary, but I did not dispel it.

"I'm inside," I whispered. I worried only about the guards outside. The building's security system was completely off, according to Guardian. It was easy enough to believe. 

"Proceed carefully to the northwest corner."

It took a few seconds to reorient myself with the directions. The shadows began to retreat slightly as my eyes adjusted to the darkness, though I still found it necessary to navigate my way around with my hands. 

"You should've told me to bring a lamp," I grumbled quietly.

"That won't be necessary."

As I walked, I felt that the solid pavement for a floor beneath me ended. Metal grates replaced it as I neared the corner. The grates served as see-through panels for the machinations underneath it. At the time, of course, it was too dark to see anything.

I remembered the empty jewel case that came with Branford's journal. Judging from the empty slot, the gem would be an inch in diameter. I wondered how I would even spot the necklace in the first place.

It was then that I saw a faint glow beneath the grilled panels. Red and soft. I felt something else, too. The Invisibility barrier was weakening around me. It was definitely a reaction to the gem. As I drew even closer to the spot, the glow intensified more. I guessed that the gem was reacting to my magical barrier, as well.

"I see it," I whispered. Guardian did not respond. It was clear what I had to do.

I reached for a good grip of the grilled panel and pulled. The panel came loose like a manhole cover, only lighter. I moved it aside and reached for the necklace wedged between two pipes. As I touched the gem, the soft, red light blinked out, dispersing my magical barrier entirely. I was visible again. Almost.

The gem felt cold to the touch. It was a normal kind of coldness. It no longer emitted any special aura. The chain was still intact, and that prompted me to wear it around my neck.

"Now what?" I asked, Guardian.

"Now you translate the rest of Branford's diary. Keep that necklace safe until the time is right."

The trek back to my office proved to be uneventful despite the fact that I was no longer invisible. Only soldiers on guard duty were there to greet me. My investigation team was fast asleep in their quarters. On my desk were more books from the library. I had asked them to be delivered there in my continuing search for the meaning of Branford's symbols.

My eyes caught one particular object neatly wrapped in brown paper. Unwrapping it revealed a red, leather-bound book with a curious title: **Dr. Unne and the Rediscovery of Lefein**.

**If you're confused about what Jasom is referring to by "test," it's because this story will be told in another separate optional chapter. I'll keep you posted on my website about this optional chapter @ www.lastmagicite.net.


	16. Jasom's First Day

**Jasom's First Day**

"Jasom!" I exclaimed as he entered my office. 

He looked sharp with his dress uniform, proudly sporting his new stripe. He walked in a dignified manner--chin up and with a stern look on his face. He stood in front of my desk and saluted. I acknowledged with a smile and then bid him to be at ease.

"I'm so glad of your decision, Jasom. I need all the help that I can get, and there aren't plenty of that available to me," I started as I crossed the office to make sure that nobody outside was listening in.

"I will be honest, General--"

"Celes," I corrected. "You may call me Celes when we're alone."

"I'd rather not, General, as I do tend to slip up when I speak. Should it happen in front of the others, what would they think of the informality? Surely, that would not help you gain their respect," said Jasom. It seemed as if he had seen this coming and had prepared an adequate response.

I smiled again, walking back to my desk, thinking that all was going much better than I had anticipated as far. I motioned for him to take a seat.

"Fine, Jasom. But at least, don't talk to me with that tone of voice. You sound like a total stranger. I'm not used to that!" I said jokingly.

He grinned.

"The tone comes with the stripe, I'm afraid. I've been practicing it last night," he replied, chuckling.

My smile faded, and his followed. He understood the urgency of the situation. If he hadn't, then he would not have accepted. He understood because he was there last night, inside the Marigolds, spying. He gave me the benefit of the doubt, and he was willing to give me some more. I didn't wait long for his report.

"I was there, General," he began. "You were right. There was a meeting that took place in the basement of the orphanage."

"Who?" I asked eagerly in a lowered voice.

"You're not going to like it," he assured me as though I had a choice. "Chief Stromsburg and a few Vector veterans on one side. Three foreigners on the other. They sounded like they were from far north."

"Rebels," I muttered.

Jasom nodded gravely. "And traitors," he added, referring to the chief and the veterans.

_The terms traitor and treason hold no meaning when the very allegiance you have sworn to protect and fight for conspires against you, _I found myself quoting Guardian. I almost said it out loud but thought better of it.

"What did they talk about?"

"It was difficult to make sense of their agenda. Almost hard to believe. It seemed to me that the foreigners called for the meeting, and the veteran, Mr. Clive Omil, was their representative. The others seemed regretful of agreeing to have the meeting, including the chief of police.

"The chief, most of all, distrusted the foreigners. But she had some pretty interesting questions for them."

"Like what?"

"She wanted to know why they commenced the attacks on the Bronze Compound. She was very direct with her question. The foreigners were taken aback. Two of them were outraged of the accusation."

"So you're saying that neither the foreigners nor the natives admitted to their involvement with the Terra Episode?" I asked. I already knew the answer. 

"That's what it looked like," he said, shrugging. "Even if they weren't involved, one would think that they would claim responsibility just to get the Empire's attention."

"I want to hear your thoughts on this, Jasom. You're not just my aide, you're also my confidant."

He frowned and seemed ill at ease. "I don't think I'm a reliable source of judgment, General. I was struggling to keep up with their conversation."

"I trust you, Jasom. You're one of those people who have not yet given in to the military's brainwashing."

Jasom looked shocked at my choice of words. I knew that I should've been more careful. How confounding it must've been for him to hear me say the words. There I was, a general of the Army, talking about brainwashing and propaganda to a lowly subject such as he. I wished that I had chosen my words more carefully. But there was no reason for me to take them back now. "That's right, Jasom. This is something that you will learn soon enough," I assured him. Whether or not he was ready to accept it was not relevant at the moment. "I want to hear your thoughts," I repeated. "Who was telling the truth?"

He snapped out of his tentative reaction and answered, "I believe both sides. The chief and the veterans didn't have anything to do with the Terra Episode. At the same time, the foreigners were just there to gather information about recent events. It seemed ludicrous to them that they would plan such a 'reckless' attack."

"So both sides deny," I thought loudly. It was a matter of confirmation. My theory was solid. "That seems plausible enough."

"The chief was not at all convinced, at first. She taunted them mercilessly to try to get them to admit any sort of involvement with the attack. She almost sounded like she was one of us."

"She is," I said.

"But why does she not report the rebels to us?" he asked.

"For the same reason you decided to take this job," I replied coolly. "You want to see both sides before condemning one."

Jasom was silent for a few seconds, reconsidering. "But you seem so sure about the whole thing. How would you know that?"

"My theory and an independent source are accurate to the dot. The odds look to their favor. The sympathizers and rebels are not to blame for what happened. They are merely scapegoats for the bigger conspirators," I explained.

"Source? What source?" he asked, trying to keep up.

"Soon, Jasom. You will find out very soon."

"But you have no confirmation of your theory or the validity of your source."

"True. And that is what we're about to obtain. Pick up your clipboard and bring a weapon. We have plenty of ground to cover today."

"Where to, General?" he asked, getting on his feet.

"First on the itinerary."

"The Intel Headquarters?"

* * *

The top floor of the Intel Headquarters was where most of the military radio transmissions went through. They were identified, encrypted if necessary, and routed to their destination. And each time a process took place, a recorded log was taken and filed.

The Intel Headquarters received a sighting report of an escaped suspect. Jasom and I arrived in the building without notice, much to the surprise of everybody. We were there for the official word.

"General Chere! It is an honor. What can we do for you?" Captain Kernak asked after the obligatory salute. 

"As you were, men!" I said aloud for everybody in the room to return to their duties. Most of the soldiers within sat in front of terminals, wearing headsets and speaking through small microphones. They were in constant communication with the outside military activities. I dared not halt their entire operation.

Jasom stepped forward and took the floor for me as I have instructed him on the way over.

"Good morning, Captain. I hope you're not too busy at the moment. May we step into your office for some privacy?"

"Certainly! Right this way, General," the captain courteously led the way to his small office on the same floor. He opened his door for Jasom and me.

The walls were lined with shelves that reached up to the ceiling. They were filled with binders, neatly arranged and labeled with numbers that could only signify dates. The binders were color coded--red, white and black. On one corner of the room was a stack of folders. I assumed that they were records yet to be organized. A window was open, letting in a slight breeze of fresh air. On his desk were documents held in place by a cylindrical paperweight. Upon closer inspection, I noticed that the paperweight was an old-fashioned miniature granary with a cone-shaped top that was the roof. The granary had a little sign that said, 'Welcome to Maranda.' It was obviously one of the little trinkets a tourist might buy as a souvenir.

There were only two chairs. This made the captain uncomfortable. He was about to offer both chairs to his visitors when Jasom beat him to the punch.

"Please have a seat, Captain." Then turning towards me, he said, "General, if I may..." He politely held the chair for me until I was seated comfortably. The captain closed the door, sat behind his desk, and awkwardly waited for one of us to speak.

"I do not wish to take too much of your time, Captain," I started. "We're both aware of how busy it can get here."

"Thank you, General," he replied with uncertainty.

"According to my investigative team, you've received an audible report of the infiltrator the day of the Terra Episode." I paused, waiting for confirmation.

"Yes, General. We have," he sounded uneasy about it.

"We were also told that you've lost that recorded report from your files?"

The captain cleared his throat and replied, "That would be correct, General."

"In that case, we have quite a few questions to ask you. Who sent the audible report to the H.Q.?" At this, Jasom readied his clipboard and pencil to take notes.

"It was Adviser Kefka Palazzo," he said promptly. Jasom started his scribbling.

"Have you confirmed this?" I asked.

"Yes, we have, General."

"How have you confirmed this?"

"One of my men swears by it. I trusted his word."

"So it wasn't you personally who handled the report?"

"No, General, it wasn't I."

"Who was it then?"

"The call was routed to Private First Class Condell's desk station. He was the one to pick up."

I glanced up at Jasom who was furiously scribbling at the clipboard. When he noticed that my eyes were on him, he started to move towards the door. "I'm on it, General," he said before disappearing behind the door.

The captain and I were alone. He seemed relieved of the break in the series of questions I had in store for him. I reminded myself to go slower.

"Has Adviser Palazzo contacted the H.Q. after the Terra Episode?"

"No, General. At least, not to my knowledge."

"Has any member of his Devouts contacted you?"

The captain shook his head thoughtfully. He didn't seem to be hiding anything from me. His reactions were genuine.

"Have you or your colleagues initiated contact with Adviser Palazzo or with any of his Devouts after the Terra Episode."

The question was so specific that it made him a bit nervous. "No, General. Were we supposed to?"

I ignored his question and went to the next. "Have you or any of your colleagues made contact with anybody regarding the attack?"

"We were only told to report to the late General Fencross since he was the one handling the investigation. But when we heard of his condition, we waited for orders from the New Council. We were only instructed to wait longer," he explained. It was believable.

I nodded thoughtfully. The gesture seemed to make him relax a bit. 

"At this point, I would like to know how you've lost Kefka's recorded voice," I said, trying very hard not to sound accusing.

He swallowed nervously and answered, "We aren't sure about how it happened, General. I mean, losing recorded files happens, but they are extremely rare. It's the strangest thing really."

"Please explain," I said, looking intrigued. I did not want him to feel like he was being interrogated as a criminal.

"Well, General," he began, shifting his tense position. "The few times we've lost files or recordings were mostly due to technical problems. Annoying things like bad medium or broken machines. When these things happen, we usually end up losing a whole batch of recordings for that day. But Adviser Palazzo's recording was a special case. Only his recording was missing from the tape. We have a timestamp of his transmission, but then it was silent for the duration of his call. It was just a gap of silence in the entire collection. It was almost as if it was never recorded in the first place. If that were the case, then we never did have a recording of it any one time," he concluded.

"You don't think it was another malfunction that did it?" I asked.

"It was too precise, General. I don't believe that was what happened."

"So you're telling me that we really cannot prove that it was Kefka?"

The captain paused and examined my last question. _Did I sound like I was accusing the emperor's most trusted adviser of a crime?_

"That is correct, General," he said.

There was a soft knock on the door.

"Enter!" I commanded. It was Jasom. He was back with Private First Class Condell.

I stood up and smiled at the newcomer.

"Private First Class Condell, General," Jasom introduced.

I extended my hand before the private had the chance to make a salute. He shook my hand with great confidence. I saw no mark of unease on his face. I motioned for him to take my seat. The young man did not hesitate.

"Captain, you've been very helpful. I would now like to have a word with Mr. Condell in private, please," I said with a smile.

The captain got up quickly with a sigh of relief. "Certainly, General."

Jasom held the door open for him, nodding respectfully as the captain stepped out.

I took the captain's chair instead and examined the young man's face. I observed that the private had more confidence than his superior.

"Condell, I want you to carefully recall what happened the day of the Terra Episode. It is very important that you do not leave out a single detail." Condell was just nodding. He seemed eager to answer. "Let us begin with what you were doing a minute before you answered that reported sighting of Tina Branford."

"It's easy enough to remember, General. I was on my usual station, routing secured calls all over the Bronze Compound. I did not notice anything out of the ordinary at the time--" 

"Be a bit more specific. What secured transmissions were you handling?"

"At that hour, I was one of those in charge of coordinating the Spitfire patrol search over the city. I believe the Alpha group was on their way back to their respective hangars for refueling. I had just contacted their fueling stations to prepare for friendly incoming. That was when I noticed the orange signal indicator on my panel," he narrated clearly.

"And what does that orange indicator _ indicate_ exactly?"

"First Seal transmissions, General. They come directly from the Bronze Fortress itself. Only a handful of people have such dedicated lines. I'm sure you have one, too, from your main office."

Jasom started his scribbling again.

"Are these transmissions exempt for being recorded?"

"No, General. All transmissions, by default, are recorded on this side unless otherwise specified. Kefka simply didn't mention anything about the removal of the recording. Frankly, I can't think of any reason why he would want to."

"So what you're saying is that you were the one who heard the report?"

"That is correct, General."

"Please tell us as accurately as you can what Adviser Palazzo told you," I ordered.

"Certainly. He said that he has spotted Tina Branford in the act of entering Magitek Warehouse 5. He gave the order to lock it down, sound the alarm, and dispatch an assault force. He didn't wait for me to send an audible acknowledgment," he said almost sounding disappointed.

"How did you know that it was Adviser Palazzo?"

"He identified himself. He actually used his first name," he said, chuckling a bit. "It's not every day an important person likes that gives you his first name," he commented. "And, also, his transmission signature was orange-coded. His device ID was 'K.P. 7' so I assumed that it was his comm device."

"Were you able to pinpoint the exact location of the device?"

"No, General. Just the ID. We know that it came from inside the Bronze Fortress, though."

"Are you certain that Adviser Palazzo said it was M.W. 5?"

"I am," he said without hesitation.

"And how did you react to this report?"

"Palazzo terminated the transmission. There was nothing else to do about that. I reported to my superior and he promptly reported to General Fencross. Within minutes, General Fencross's team had M.W. 5 surrounded."

"And then what?"

"I was back to my usual station. We get plenty of important calls, but none of us really see much of the action. Minutes later, we received a direct command from the Fencross Team. I was told route the Spitfire patrols closer to ground zero. As the situation developed, a distress call was received by everybody in the floor. It was a top level broadcast. The Fencross Team was under attack by a Magitek Unit."

"The Magitek Armor came from a powering station roughly two hundred yards away," I finally said in a slightly accusatory tone. The private had been holding his nerves together. I wanted to see how he would react to a little bit of pressure.

"Yes, General," he responded coolly.

"Terra was piloting the Magitek Armor," I continued, building up the tone.

"Correct, General."

"You gave them the wrong location, Private. The Fencross Team had the wrong building surrounded."

"I realized that afterwards, General. I had given them the wrong information, but only because the information that I had received was already incorrect."

"Was it possible that you had misheard the adviser?"

"No, General," he promptly said, sounding wounded at the accusation, yet he was still calm. "I deal with garbled messages everyday in this building and I've grown accustomed to various radio distortions. Palazzo's voice was very clear. It was as if he were right beside me. He distinctly said Warehouse 5."

"Private Condell, I hope you realize what you're trying to tell me. By affirming your confidence in your 'acquired skill' you are saying that Adviser Kefka Palazzo--the emperor's most trusted adviser--gave you the wrong information."

The private didn't even blink. "I stay with my word, General."

I grinned. Jasom looked at him with silent awe.

"Very good, Private Condell. Thank you very much for your time."

I stood up from my desk. Private Condell stood up after me and saluted. He turned to leave. Jasom held the door open for the private and quickly closed it again.

"Pardon me, General. But why was that transmission critical to the investigation?" Jasom asked. He had been taking notes but was unable to piece things together. I was not surprised.

"The sighting was a lie. It was not a mere inaccuracy," I said with confidence, absentmindedly picking up the miniature granary from the stack of documents. I leaned back on the captain's chair, swiveled around so I now faced the open window and stared outside, thinking.

"But how can you be so sure? Is it not possible that Kefka had identified the building incorrectly?"

"Quite possible. But consider the number of people who died with the first shot from that MegaArmor. The report had placed the Fencross Team close to the epicenter of the explosion."

"I don't quite follow, General."

"Read the report, Jasom. Green tab," I said.

Jasom flipped back pages of his clipboard to where he had a copy of the report that I had summarized for him earlier. He still had not had the chance to read everything. Things were going too fast for him.

I gave him a few minutes to absorb the document with a green labeled tab. It concerned the ruined Magitek Warehouse 5 report. As I waited, I looked at the miniature figurine in my hands, and in that brief, silent moment, I appreciated the simple craftsmanship dedicated to the novelty item. It was made entirely out of a single block of wood, carved and detailed with masterful strokes of a tiny chisel. The words were painted carefully.

_Welcome to Maranda,_ I thought. I wondered when I would earn a week or two to be at that popular vacation spot. Already, I felt guilty about cutting Jasom's vacation short. But I promised to make it up to him. He didn't seem to mind. I, myself, had already written his girlfriend a letter, vaguely explaining the urgency of the situation. It was the least I could do. I hoped that a letter coming from a general of the Imperial Military was enough to convince her.

"An entire company was inside?!" he gasped.

"Vaporized," I added for effect as I placed the paperweight to where it belonged. I stood up and walked around the desk. We exited the office, thanked the captain who was waiting outside for his time, and left the building.

A military vehicle waited for us outside. I told Jasom that I would drive the vehicle. I wanted to give him time to read the rest of the report to get him acquainted with the hidden facts.

As we sped down the street, Jasom made a comment about the Magitek Armor.

"I was not aware that a Magitek Unit could do that much damage with a single discharge."

"It can't," I said clearly. "But it had help."

"How?" he asked glancing to his side. He noticed that we were en route to leave the Bronze Compound.

"Turn the page," I said simply.

"T.N.T.?" Jasom said, echoing the same bewilderment I had when Professor Brown gave me the report.

"Non-military grade explosive. They came from the outside. What they were doing inside M.W. 5 is still debatable. How they got there in the first place without detection is a greater mystery. But all that are not important."

"It's not?"

"We just need to know who put it there. The _ why_ will follow. The _how_ does not matter."

"Do we have a suspect?"

"Yes. Kefka."

"So how do we find out?"

"According to my team's investigation, it would take about 5,000 pounds of T.N.T. to produce that kind of explosion. It was the T.N.T. that killed those people. The MegaArmor was just there to ignite it. 

"Now put it together, Jasom. Do you not think that all that were too convenient? A MegaArmor to light the fuse--just far enough from the blast radius. Consider the timing. Seconds after the Fencross Team had surrounded the building, Terra fired. The first shot was intended for the building itself. Not the Fencross Team. It was too accurate. Why would she target the building itself if she hadn't known about the explosives there?"

"But how did those people end up inside?"

"We may never know how, but I can tell you that they were there to die. They were meant to perish together with the Fencross Team."

"But why?"

"Those people all shared something in common. They knew one particular person too well," I paused for effect, staring straight down the road. Jasom waited for my answer. "Tina Branford."

* * *

"So who's Tina Branford?" Jasom finally asked.

_How does one respond to such a simple question, when the answer was yet to complete weaving itself into the tapestry? _I thought. Jasom did not yet know that Terra and Tina Branford were one and the same. I wondered whether it would be wise to reveal to him that dangerous secret. After all, most of the people who knew Tina Branford were all dead. It was the paradox of the chicken and the egg.

But logic had to start somewhere. Let it start with identity.

"Tina Branford is Terra. Terra is Tina Branford," I answered as I weaved through the streets of the city. We were headed east, farther from the City Circle, and closer to the edge of the urban world.

Jasom heard me clearly. I was proud of his incentive to try and piece things together himself. He recalled what he knew about the Terra Episode--the so-called "public knowledge." Then he had been integrating my investigative findings to that knowledge with great effort by evaluating new findings, re-evaluating inconsistencies, and patching up the holes with theories, gluing the pieces of the puzzle together one shard at a time. And when he was halfway done, I shattered it all up again with only two sentences.

_Poor Jasom!_

Ideas ran wild in his head. What he once thought to be truth had now become a fallacy. What he once affirmed to be a fallacy had now become an uncertainty.

I grinned secretly. It felt oddly satisfying to have another person puzzle over the greatest riddle of all.

"Don't try too hard, Jasom. It's only your first day," I said, beaming a smile at him. "My first day being officially a general killed me. And I have yet to discover how Beigeletter fit into the tapestry."

"Gods!" he gasped in exasperation. "How many are involved?"

"I don't know. The numbers seem to grow. Tina Branford was the center of it all. Not anymore, however. I'm under the spotlight now."

"According to the reports, Tina Branford died in M.W. 5. But Terra was neutralized. So, which is it?"

"Branford is still alive. For reasons we have yet to uncover, Branford was given a new identity. As far as the public is concerned, Branford died inside M.W. 5. And to keep this lie alive, they killed those who knew Branford's existence in the military. That meant her captain and the entire company. Give or take a few other acquaintances. So as far as the public is concerned, the _Tragic Tale of Branford_ ended in M.W. 5.

"But to those who knew the truth--or at least, part of it--it's only begun. She was about to be tried for her infiltration and destruction of the Magitek Reactor--"

"That was her? But I thought that was Terra?" I glanced at him with a grin. He caught on after a few seconds. "Oh," he said sheepishly.

"Same person, Jasom. Different name. Different image. Whoever the conspirators were, they wanted to sway the attention of the public from the conspiracy. Branford was secretive. She was military. She was magic-user. Her identity had too many connections with the Army. She had gained the attention of too many individuals who asked questions. The questions could lead to the core of the conspiracy.

"As a solution, the conspirators invented the name Terra. Terra was a ploy to silence the secrets that Branford knew. And as icing to the cake itself, they gave the name an illusion that the attacks were the rebels' doing." I was quite proud of how I summarized it. Granted, a huge part of it was only a theory of mine. But it helped Jasom with his thought process.

"So Branford's capture, trial, and death would've made many people suspicious, while Terra's would not?" Jasom asked.

I nodded slowly, pleased of his progress.

"Branford's case pointed to the truth. Terra's case pointed to the opposite and convenient direction."

"Not to mention, convincing," Jasom added. "Branford's case, and even her death, was no longer questioned because Vector now has bigger fish to fry!"

"Correct! The image of Terra is the new and greater threat. Terra is the enemy. She came from out there. A rebel. Meanwhile, Branford is old and forgotten news."

"But why did they permit this investigation? I thought Terra was captured?"

"She is a prisoner somewhere in the Magitek Lab Omega. They simply wanted closure for the incident. Since Fencross was in a coma before he died, everybody is expecting the new leader of the investigation to close the case, point blindly to any direction, and order the retaliation. They wanted a fool to dance to their music." I paused. Gritting my teeth, I added, "They picked me."

Jasom cast a nervous glance towards me. I stared straight ahead, not realizing that I was going too fast for the street. I slowed down and curved the right edge of my lips. "They shouldn't have brought me back from the dead," I said wryly.

Jasom cleared his throat to dispel the awkward air in the vehicle. "So what is this conspiracy?" he asked.

"That's what I'm hoping to find out. The conspirators are no fools. Almost everything is a dead end," I said.

"Almost?"

"Branford is the first victim of the conspiracy. She got in too deep and too close to the fire. While most people think that Branford is old news, nobody expected me to retrace her steps to get closer to the truth."

Jasom was silent for a long time again. It almost seemed like he had grown tired of the conversation and that he needed a break from thinking. He looked away from me and stared blankly to his side. Nothing on the sidewalks caught his attention much, I noticed. In reality, he was still deep in thought.

"And then what?" he said suddenly.

"Pardon me?"

"So you risk your life to discover this conspiracy and learn the entire truth. And then what?"

I slammed on the brakes. The vehicle skidded to a complete stop. Jasom dropped his clipboard in surprise as he braced himself for the force of the quick stop. When he pulled himself back against the seat, he met my eyes. His looked worried, somehow, guessing that his question had offended me.

I simply smiled and said, "We've arrived. I stepped quickly out of the vehicle. He promptly followed suit. "Call for back up. Local police only. Not Intel," I ordered.

"What for?" he asked in alarm, his hand instinctively reaching for his weapon.

I pointed to the old factory behind him. The words read, **Marrows' Explosives Limited.**


	17. Princess Dorothy

**Princess Dorothy**

The factory looked old but well kept. It was clean and had plenty of warning signs, most of which depicted fire and in its many ways it might cause havoc in the premise. The factory within was mostly an open area. The machines did not move. It was quiet. Only the ventilation system was active. Jasom and I saw nobody to greet us at the front desk, which was nothing more than a long counter by the front door with a sign that said 'Please Wait.' Aside from the sign, the desk was bare. It didn't seem like the factory was open for business.

"Hello!" Jasom yelled. His voice echoed around us. 

We heard a door creaking open and slamming from the other side of the factory, followed by hurried footsteps that grew louder each second. It was a tall man all dressed up in a yellow hazard suit stained with blotches of black oil. The top was off, revealing his face and scraggly beard.

"We're closed!" the man replied impatiently. "Orders aren't taken till next month!"

"Are you in charge here, sir?" Jasom asked back.

"He's busy!"

"We need to talk to him," Jasom insisted. The man frowned and shrugged. Then, he pointed to a flight of metal stairs against the wall. It led up to a walkway towards a visibly, elevated office corner. We could clearly see the word 'MANAGER' stenciled on the translucent glass on the door.

"Thank you," Jasom said, but the man was already on his way back to whatever it was he was doing.

I led the way up. Jasom followed as he admired the motionless machines below. The sight of them didn't impress me much. I had seen more massive and sophisticated equipment back in the Magitek Lab Omega. Another door was located a few yards away from the manager's office. I assumed that it was an emergency exit to a short flight of fire escape to the alley.

As we approached the manager's office, we noticed that the door was slightly ajar. Smoke was coming out from the slit. Jasom and I glanced at each other in unease. I pointed to a small fire extinguisher conveniently mounted on the wall, just in case. I noticed that there were several of them all over the factory.

As we got even nearer, I became surer that the smoke was not due to a hazardous flame. At the distance we were from the office, we would've heard the fire, or felt its heat. Instead, we smelled cigar smoke.

Jasom relaxed his stance. He pushed open the office door, revealing a thick fog of cigar smoke in the small room. It was hard to see the interior because of it. The first movement we noticed came from behind what looked like a small desk--too small to be an office desk.

"Who the hell are you?" said a startled, throaty voice.

"I am General Chere of the Imperial Army, and this is my aide, Lieutenant Jasom Keep."

The man stood up from his chair and leaned forward against the desk. The smoke in front of him parted like curtains allowing his head to be exposed in the artificial light, like a turtle poking out of its shell. His head was huge, balding, and red. He had dark bags under his bloodshot eyes, and his lips were as fat as the cigar he was puffing. He eyed the both of us with great scrutiny and furrowed his thick brows as he had come to a decision.

"And I am Princess Dorothy of the Faeries," he said, snorting.

"Good day, Dorothy," I said. "We would like to ask you a series of questions about this establishment and your... products."

"I'm busy. Make an appointment," he grumbled, sinking back down on his chair.

"Please extinguish your cigar, Dorothy. It's against code," Jasom said sternly.

"Like hell, I would!" the man said defiantly. "Now get out of here before I call security!"

Jasom threateningly raised the fire extinguisher right at the man's face.

"You wouldn't dare!" the man said through gritted teeth.

"Try me, princess," Jasom replied with a toothy smile and a wink. Jasom was flaunting authority and loving it. He was adjusting quite well to his new position. I was glad.

The manager wore a smirk on his face. He took a long puff from his cigar and blew a deliberate stream of smoke into Jasom's face.

Jasom half-turned and pulled the trigger on the extinguisher. Nothing happened. The manager burst out cackling with glee. There was a distinct squealing sound at the end of each cackle that sounded doubly irritating.

"Those extinguishers are just for show, you idiot!" Then, he continued laughing, holding his cigar on one hand.

My blade sliced through the fog of smoke and split his desk in half. The manager gave out a yelp in alarm. He fell off his chair when he attempted to get up in haste. My blade was back in its place before he hit the floor.

The manager yelled out a name. We didn't quite catch it because his yell was accompanied by a fit of coughing. Jasom dropped the fake extinguisher and grabbed the manager by his collar. I stepped around his broken desk, picked up his chair, and righted it against a wall closest to Jasom. Jasom forcefully sat him upright on the chair. His face was red. 

I opened the only window in the room to clear the smoke and to take some fresh air. The window was in between two tall columns of file cabinets. Peering outside, I saw the two-story building across the alley. It looked old and abandoned. Most buildings here were only two levels high--not counting the roof, of course. The sun from above cast a modest but sufficient beam of light. It was nearing noon. The alley was void of human activity. Garbage bins stood against the walls vandalized with colorful graffiti art. I saw a number of local peacekeeper units approaching the building from the north in their conspicuous vehicles. Backup had arrived.

The man in yellow hazard suit burst inside. The first thing he noticed was the ruined desk. Then his eyes saw his manager trying to catch his breath, still under the watchful eye of my aide.

I spoke before he could. "This building is now under military control. I expect to have everybody's full cooperation. Are there others in the building?"

The man hesitated. He could not fully comprehend what had just happened. "N-no, ma'am. We're just here to clean up."

"Very well. Please proceed to the entrance and show the kind peacekeepers the way here."

The man left without question. The door was left ajar. I didn't bother to close it as it helped clear away the smoke in the room. I turned my attention back to the manager with an expressionless face. He eyed me more cautiously now, still catching is breath a bit. He was pudgy fellow, with untidy shirt, faded pants held up by green suspenders, one of which had snapped off.

"Nasty stuff, Princess Dorothy," I started. "You should quit before it kills you."

"Who are you?" he gasped.

"We've told you who we are," Jasom answered for me, glaring down at the man.

"What do you want with me?"

"I order you to surrender all information within the past month concerning the manufacture and distribution of your products," I said, cutting to the chase. "That includes your past orders, receipts, company and customer files, production reports, inventory, employee information--"

"Are you for real?"

"General Chere!" a woman said by the doorway, as if on cue.

I turned and saw Jennina Stromsburg herself. I smiled warmly. "Chief Stromsburg! I did not know that you would come personally."

She looked around the room quickly before responding. "I'm in this area quite a lot. It's not a tourist attraction," she explained with an understatement.

"Which is exactly why we require your assistance." I looked at the two men behind her. "I hope you brought more with you."

"They are downstairs awaiting orders. What would you have us do?" she asked, glaring at the manager in disgust. It looked as if she and the manager had had prior unfriendly encounters. "Do you want us to arrest him? What's he done this time?"

"We are still interrogating him. Military matters. But when we're done with him, you may arrest him for at least two counts of safety violations--"

"Let me guess," she interrupted. "Smoking in a fire hazard area and possession of fake fire retardant devices. That's only good for keeping him in jail for two hours before he makes bail and pays the fines. I hope you have something on him that'll keep him away for a much longer time. Mr. Bernac Marrow here is one person who wouldn't be missed by the local peacekeepers.

"Oh, you're breaking my heart, Nina!" Mr. Marrow said sarcastically.

"Be silent!" Jasom snapped.

"We'll do our best, Chief. Right now, I would like to have the entire establishment locked down and searched for more employees."

"You're not having the others detained, are you?"

Jasom turned his attention to the chief of police. Her insubordination made him uneasy. He was ready to speak in my defense.

"On the contrary, I would like to have them escorted home safely. Is this satisfactory?" I asked in a tone that neither sounded sincere nor sarcastic.

She eyed me intently for a couple of seconds. "You're the boss," she said finally, shrugging. Turning on her heels, she started giving out orders to her men. I was glad that she did not openly resent the transfer of authority and jurisdiction. I considered myself lucky.

"Where were we? Ah, yes. I demand full disclosure and full cooperation. Failure to comply will result in an untimely expiration," I finished.

"Hey, I know the drill! You can't just take away my license."

"We are Military. Not the local police," Jasom reminded him.

"And I wasn't talking about your work license," I added grimly. I could see the uncertainty in his eyes. His chauvinistic pride was fueling his resistance. He did not want to be talked down to by a woman, let alone a woman who was younger than he was.

"You can't--" 

"Enlighten us, Dorothy. What can and can't a general of the Imperial Army do? Because we'd like to set the record straight for everybody," Jasom said firmly. He stole the words from my mouth. His Big Guy act was very convincing. I chose him for his open-mindedness. His improvisational skill was a bonus.

"And to think that we're only here to ask a few questions... I'd hate for things to get so drastic. It'd be such a waste of my time."

The manager may be bigoted. But, at least, he was no fool. He soon realized the significance of the matter. Perhaps, he also realized that he was to blame for his current situation. That he should've been more cordial. That his scathing attitude had turned a trivial visitation into a mountain of a problem.

"I--er... perhaps we've gotten off on the wrong foot," he awkwardly admitted. We could tell that he was not used to apologizing to anyone.

"Then let's get right on it, Dorothy,"

"Yes. Let's. My real name is Bernac Marrow."

"But, of course, it is," I said. "And this is your factory, is it not?"

"Yes, miss."

"General," Jasom corrected.

"Er... yes, General."

"Mr. Marrow, where are your people?" I asked only due to my curiosity. I thought I'd delay the real questions for a bit.

"It's our downtime, m-General."

"Downtime? Is there a malfunction, sir?"

"Not exactly. We just hadn't had much product orders for quite a bit. We get downtimes, at least, once a year. Though, admittedly, nothing like this."

What began as a question for my curiosity turned out to be a great opener.

"What do you mean, Mr. Marrow?"

"We hadn't had any orders from our usual customer for about five months now."

"Indeed? Where do you keep your financial report?"

"Er... I believe I have a copy of the past six months in my desk," he said, pointing to the mess in front of him.

I looked at it. A small drawer was open, spilling cigars still in their sealed wrappers. An almost empty bottle of whiskey sat on top of a thin stack of documents. I retrieved the documents ignoring the other contents. I took my time reading the summary. Jasom started rummaging in the file cabinets.

* * *

The files were neatly ordered. It was unseemly for a manager to be cutting corners with the safety code. I figured that he had a secretary. Needless to say, our work could not have gone faster. Our search for information started out slowly at first since Jasom and I had never seen volumes of paperwork before. It took a lot of asking what each figure meant on which color-coded sheet. Mr. Marrow answered all the questions in exasperation but with restrained intolerance. 

Jasom took notes. I, on the other hand, absorbed the information with less effort. My mind was remarkably clear and focused. I juggled with production orders, costs, income, expenses, and inventory in my head, shaping the graphs and charts, memorizing the peaks and the dips. After a good hour of looking, and hundreds of impatient sighs from the manager, I found the break in the graph.

"According to these records, you had accumulated a surplus of finished explosives nearly five months ago." I looked up from the documents and waited for him to confirm.

He sighed loudly, as if bored. "Yes, General."

"Is that normal?"

"It is, General. It's not illegal or anything. The Military isn't very specific about their needs. It's different each day."

When I heard the word 'Military,' my eyes went back to the summary. The documents made absolutely no mention of product orders made by the Military. Instead...

"What's Mart?"

"M.A.R.T." he corrected. "Military Archaeological Research Team. Don't you know your own territory?" he said. He was a tad too late to bite his tongue. If General Fencross were in my place, he would've thrown the man out through the glass window. It was a pity that I needed him alive.

Jasom's face grew sterner. I didn't think it possible. "Don't make me hit you, Dorothy," Jasom said.

"I'm sorry!" Marrow said quickly. He meant it. "There's a massive mining operation to the east. Been digging that area for quite a while now."

"What are they digging for?" I asked, risking further hints of my ignorance of the matter. I just didn't care.

Mr. Marrow shook his head. "I don't know. They don't tell us. We're on a 'need-to-know' basis, and we don't need to know," he finished, possibly quoting what he was told. 

Apparently, the powers that be all thought that I didn't need to know either. "The surplus, Mr. Marrow," I reminded him to continue his explanation.

"Uh, yeah... Since unit orders from the Military are irregular, we'd raised our production quota a bit. The surplus didn't stay in our storage for longer than a week. So we really had no problems dealing with the manufacturing code."

"Manufacturing code?" Jasom asked, readying himself to jot down some notes on a tiny notebook from one of his pockets.

"We have a limit of how much explosive material we can store for a certain amount of time. If that limit is reached and our deadline arrives, we are forced to send them to a decomposition facility for safe disposal and recycling of the material... at a costly fee to me." The manager added the last phrase bitterly.

"What happened?"

"The Military stopped buying, that's what!" he said, raising his voice, sounding upset. He talked as if he were a victim. "They annulled our binding contract, and our number one customer was gone. Talk about what the Military can and can't do!"

"Watch it," Jasom warned as he noticed Mr. Marrow's temper grow.

"Sorry," the manager said, subdued. Then he continued. "They cancelled their orders leaving us with 15,000 pounds of T.N.T. Our surplus limit is 4,000. One minute, we were counting our chickens. The next minute, we were looking to get rid of them. Sending all 11,000 pounds to the decomp-facility would bankrupt us. In the old days, we dug holes and stored them there. Now, we gotta be 'environmentally conscious' about it according to the blasted local safety laws!"

"Well, you _are_ in a populated area, sir," Jasom reminded him.

"Forgive me, boy, but this didn't used to be a populated area. My father started his business here, and the place was deserted. It was the perfect place to build a factory. Years later, people moved into the area. Where was the local safety law back then? The stupidity of people is more hazardous than my explosives.

"Anyway," he continued, "decomposition, disposal and recycling of explosives cost more money than to make 'em. Talk about your backward world!"

I decided to finally drop the big one. "So who was the buyer?"

The manager's eyes widened. "I didn't say there was a buyer."

"You're still in business. It's slow business, but you're still here. You must've gotten rid of them all. If you couldn't find a buyer, then how did you get rid of the surplus? Somebody must've taken them."

"I... uh, I can't tell you."

I frowned. And so did Jasom. Mr. Marrow swallowed.

"Let's not talk about what _you_ can or can't do in front of a general of the Imperial Army. We are very good motivators."

"I don't know who took 'em. I swear!" he said defensively. "Keep reading the report. You'll see."

I looked at the summary in my hands and turned the pages. They all looked the same except for one document. It was a filed police report. Intrigued, I read it. I was shocked at the police report. I had to read it twice to be certain. Finally, I looked at the manager in disgust.

"Burglary? How could you let thieves get away with 15,000 pounds of explosives?!"

"Look around you!" Mr. Marrow began. "Did you really think that two people could run this place even at downtimes? I had to fire people. Security personnel! I had to cut safety corners!" he said, motioning to the fake extinguisher on the floor. "If I hadn't done so, this place would've gone out of business. I just had no choice but to let my security staff go."

"You fool," Jasom muttered, shaking his head in aversion.

My mind raced. His story was not complete. Something in his excuse did not quite fit in even if I were to take it seriously.

"But that's just the tip of the iceberg, isn't it? You let them steal it!" I said accusingly, with a stabbing finger. "You figured that having those explosives taken away would cost you nothing at all since you wouldn't have to pay for the safe disposal."

"It wasn't my fault!" he said through gritted teeth.

"Of course, not. How very convenient for you." 

Mr. Marrow's face turned red. Instead of getting more defensive, he held his ground. "How dare you?! How dare you place all the blame on my company? The Military and I had a contract. We lived on that contract. That contract fed us and kept us alive. And then the Military rescinded it at whim, refusing payment and compensation of the Early Termination Terms of Agreement. To top it all off, the Emperor locked us all in and restricted trade to the outside world. 

"Where was justice? The local police watched us like a hawk for any violation--waiting for a cigarette butt to hit the floor so they could pounce and slap us with fines. Meanwhile, the Military did us wrong. But, unfortunately for us, the Military is above the law! My workers were honest people! When I fired them, they threatened to get their due one way or the other. 

"Suddenly, _I'm_ the bad guy! My former employees, the local police, and now the Military are hounding me."

"Oh, don't think that you're the only one struggling through this! People are dead because of your moral disregard!" I returned, decidedly opposed to the idea of giving him my sympathy.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"It wasn't really theft, was it? No, no! A thief may get away with 100 or 200 pounds of these dangerous materials. A street gang may take 500 or maybe 1,000. But 15,000? That wasn't theft. That was an operation. You made a secret deal and made it look like it was a case of burglary. Who was it?!" I grilled.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Mr. Marrow shouted back.

"Talk, Dorothy. An accessory to grand treason is--"

"Oh, now I'm a traitor! This is just beautiful!"

"Only if you do not cooperate," I said more calmly.

He laughed. "You have nothing on me, and you know it! If you think you can squeeze from me information that _I don't have_, you'd best work on your detective skills harder."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a break in the sunbeam. Then there was movement from outside the window, across the alley and on the rooftop of the next building. It was a silhouette of a man holding a crossbow, preparing to shoot. I couldn't see his face clearly.

"Get down!" I shouted as I pushed Mr. Marrow with all my might. He toppled over, his feet in the air, but otherwise in a better defensive position than before.

The arrow whizzed through the window, over Jasom's head and right through my right arm. I felt the arrow at full force. The impact was strong enough to create an exit wound. The iron bolt stuck on my arm. I cried out in pain. When Jasom heard me, he moved quickly and pulled me to the side, out of the assassin's line of sight.


	18. The End of the Trail

**The End of the Trail**

"Pull it out!" I cried, as I winced in pain. I did not have a good leverage to put it out myself at the angle the bolt struck. "Pull it out with one quick tug!"

Jasom's face was white. His hands were shaking. He took a firm grip of the bloody iron bolt and took deep breaths.

"Quick and sure!" I reminded him. The pain was enough to paralyze my entire right arm.

Jasom gripped the bolt tighter and yanked it out of arm. I shrieked in pain and gritted my teeth almost immediately. Blood oozed out of the entry wound. Though it wasn't a mortal wound, Jasom was mortified. This was to his first real brush with a real enemy.

"Gods!" Mr. Marrow yelled out loud, as he stared at my bleeding arm in horror. He knew that the bolt was meant for him. "They're after me already!"

"Stay down!" I shouted. "Jasom, cover the window with something. Move that file cabinet!" 

Jasom pushed the cabinet and tipped it over. It fell against the other cabinet with a heavy metallic _thunk_. It was enough to block most of the window space.

I applied pressure on my wounded arm, wincing in pain. Mr. Marrow stared at it. He began to hyperventilate. He started to crawl towards the door.

"Don't let him get away!" I yelled.

Jasom ran after the manager. The manager pushed him back with his left arm. Jasom staggered at the force. Mr. Marrow's survival instincts triggered a rush of adrenaline in him. Getting up on his feet, he shoved the door open. The door swung hard, slamming against the side wall, breaking the glass to pieces.

The sound of shattering glass alerted the peacekeepers in the building. They looked up in time to see the manager running towards the only flight of stairs. Jasom was on his tail, shouting, "Stop him!"

Two peacekeepers stationed inside ran to intercept the manager. They met him as they arrived at the top.

"Get out of my way!" Mr. Marrow roared. His face was marked with horror. The two peacekeepers braced themselves for the impact. The two of them should've been enough to bring the panicked man down. To Jasom's amazement, Mr. Marrow pushed them aside with a mighty shove. He broke through the human blockade like they weren't there. One of the peacekeepers almost fell off the walkway.

"Stop him!" Jasom shouted louder for the peacekeepers out in the front door to hear. Three entered the building, confused. "Stop him!" I heard him shout again."

"Heal!" I shouted. My right arm gave off a faint yellow aura. An icy chill covered the wounds, followed by surging warmth coming from the inside. My body mended itself from the inside out. I was able to move my fingers again. Soon, my whole arm. The wounds disappeared before my eyes, leaving only the trace of escaped blood.

I stood up quickly and exited the office. By the main exit, six people wrestled with Mr. Marrow, trying to pin him down on the ground.

"They're gonna kill me! Let me go!" he roared, biting, clutching and clawing at the peacekeepers. Jasom held down both of Mr. Marrow's legs to prevent him from kicking.

One of the peacekeepers fumbled for his stun stick while he kept the panicked man down.

I decided to give them a hand. I took the stunner from the peacekeeper and shouted, "On my signal, let go of him! Now!"

Jasom and the peacekeepers let go at the same time. They pulled away from the manager as fast as they could. They knew that once I prodded him with the stunner, they'd feel the jolt, too, if they weren't quick enough.

Mr. Marrow got up quickly. I struck him in his chest. An electrical sizzle escaped from the stunner, and the manager staggered back. His balance wavered for a second, but he did not go down. I prodded him again. His knees buckled and fell.

"Please!" he blubbered. "Don't let them get me!"

I prodded him one last time and the manager went down completely. I dropped the stunner and shouted my orders.

"Jasom, take our vehicle and drive straight back to H.Q. All of you go with him. Protect this man with your lives!"

"Yes, General!" Jasom said, picking up the stunner, just in case. When he saw me go up the flight of steps again, he shouted, "Wait! You'll need help!"

"Protect him! That's your order!" I replied, without looking back. I rushed for the second floor fire exit. The knob did not turn. I had to kick it twice before it opened.

I turned my attention to the rooftops. The assassin was on the next building when I had a glimpse of him. Now, he was nowhere to be seen. To my right was a ladder leading straight up to the factory's rooftop. I climbed it quickly and scanned the vicinity. I saw no one across. _He must've gotten away already_, I thought. My foot hit something heavy.

_A crossbow! But why is it on this side of the--_

It was then that I turned around and saw a dark figure on the other edge of the factory's rooftop. _He must've jumped across! But why?_ The man was covered entirely in black. His mask revealed nothing but his eyes. His attention was turned towards the streets below. In his hand, he held a red stick of dynamite.

_Marrow!_

* * *

The peacekeepers helped Jasom carry the big man. They did it as fast as they could. Jasom went ahead of them and started the vehicle. The others lagged behind slightly encumbered. One peacekeeper opened a passenger door while Jasom instructed them on how to get the heavy man inside.

"What's going on?" Stromsburg yelled from across the street.

From above Celes' voice rang loud, "Look out below!"

Everybody looked up in time to see the stunned assassin, shocked at Celes' unexpected presence on the rooftop, his back towards everybody. He had a lit stick of dynamite in his hand with an old-fashioned fuse enough for a ten-second delay. 

The assassin faced the people below again and threw the explosive down. The stick landed on the roof of the vehicle. The peacekeepers saw the dynamite and a few ran away, abandoning their burden.

Jasom shouted, "No! Get him away from here!" Seconds later, the door swung open and he was yanked bodily out of the vehicle. Stromsburg dragged him away from the vehicle. Jasom still shouted orders to protect the manager. The rest of the peacekeepers who did not run away, dragged the heavy man more quickly than before, but carelessly. They reached the entrance of the factory. Where the other peacekeepers took cover. 

The stick of dynamite did not settle on top of the roof of the vehicle. It rolled to the side closest to the sidewalk and as it touched the ground, it exploded. The force knocked the peacekeepers off their feet. Stromsburg fell back into the alley across the street. Jasom was closest to her. A fire hydrant in front of the building burst, sending a strong fountain of water up, propelling the fire hydrant high up into the air. It landed on the roof of the factory.

At the same time, the vehicle leaped into the air and away from the blast radius, on a small trajectory towards Stromsburg and Jasom. Jasom saw the burning wreckage as if in slow motion. He kicked his legs hard for a final attempt to move out of the way. Stromsburg helped him again, reaching for his hands and pulling him to the safety of the alley.

The wreckage landed five feet in front of them, effectively blocking the alley. They would have to go around the block to reach the manager. Stromsburg wasted no time and ran. Jasom stared at the ruined vehicle and thanked his lucky stars. He imagined himself inside the wreckage. Chill crept up his spine while the heat from the flames scorched his face. He moved away quickly, ignoring the pain on his leg. They didn't seem to be broken. He diverted his concern back to the manager. He hoped that he was still alive.

* * *

I drew my blade with my left hand and charged at the assassin. I saw his eyes widen in my quick approach. Turning, he took a quick but measured aim, then, tossed the dynamite down below.

My sword swung down. The man blocked it with his arm. It was a metal bracer, thick and sturdy enough to stop my sharp blade. He pushed my sword aside and sent a fist my way. I leaned back quickly. His fist arced harmlessly in front of me. He turned away from me at the chance and started to run. I could've impaled him then with my blade, but at a moment's change of mind, I dropped my blade and tackled him on the legs instead. I figured that we could get more information out of the assassin than the manager.

I caught the man at his right ankle. We both fell forward. He kicked away my hand with his other foot. The pain made me let go, though, I did not give up. I lunged forward, placing me on top of him, my hands desperate to unmask the assassin. It was then that I realized a flaw. Since I wanted him alive, I had no way to subdue him.

_I shouldn't have dropped my sword! _I thought regrettably, though I knew that it could not be helped. The man grabbed me by my wrists and rolled me to his side. He pinned me, our situations reversed. I saw his eyes. They had a look of fear as they stared into mine. I sensed it; it was strong. It was fear of me.

The explosion both came us a surprise for the both of us. We knew it was coming, but the loudness unnerved us for a bit. I thought that the momentary distraction would provide me with the chance to escape him. But I was wrong. He held me tighter still when a figure coming from the street below shot straight up into the air and started to fall towards us. The assassin saw it, too. He had no choice but to let me go and move out of the way. I only had a split second to roll to my side before the object hit the roof where my head was with a heavy _ thud_ mixed with a _clang._

I felt water spray on my face for a brief second. Sitting up, I noticed that the object that nearly killed me was a fire hydrant. From below, I heard the rushing of water, a faint roar of flames, and Jasom's shouts of commands to the peacekeepers. To my left, I saw the assassin running away at top speed. He was headed back to the fire escape ladders.

I groaned. I had to see if the people below were alive and well. Running to the edge, I saw smoke rising up from across the street. Directly below me, I saw a couple of wounded peacekeepers, moaning in pain, reaching out for help from their comrades who managed to jump out of the way. Mr. Marrow's body lay face down on the sidewalk. Jasom was out of sight.

"Heal!" I yelled from above them, with my left arm extended over the edge. I was not sure if the magic would work at that distance. If it did, I was not sure whether it would be enough. I just had to try.

The magic flowed through my veins in a strange mixture of warmth and chill. My outstretched arm glowed a familiar aura of golden sunbeam. Below, the three followed suit. The two peacekeepers stopped their groans, though their movement did not change. Mr. Marrow showed no sign of recovery from where I was. The other peacekeepers now gathered around the injured. Jasom was still out of sight.

"General!"

It was Jasom's voice emanating from the burning wreckage. _No--from behind the wreckage!_ The smoke cleared a bit in a gust of wind revealing him to me. He was waving his arms in the air, trying to get my attention.

_Jasom, are you alright?! _I fought to say. Instead, I yelled back, "Jasom, protect the manager!"

With that I turned, picked up my sword, and ran after the assassin. I brushed a twinge of guilt off my shoulder. Logic was in charge of my actions now. Necessity numbed my emotions for the time being.

When I reached the opposite edge, I looked down into the alley below. He had just touched the ground and was already running towards the only way out. I knew that I would lose him once he made it out into the crowd. I had to do something. I wished that I had not passed on the chance to be infused with the Bolt magic. I would've stunned him from where I was. I would've slowed him down with Ice magic, too. Or I would've ignited his clothes with magical Fire and healed him afterwards. Instead, I had Heal and Vanish.

I needed something. I considered throwing my sword at him. It was most likely to miss, though that was not the reason that I hadn't. If I didn't miss, I was very likely to kill him. I remembered the last time I threw a sword in the training hall. The sword stuck onto concrete wall--_and it was blunt!_

No. I needed something smaller. At my feet, the crossbow still lay with five metal bolts stuck along the body to its tiller. I picked it up, removed one of the bolts and loaded it. I did it as I ran to the corner, nearest the exit to the alley. I aimed. My hands were uncannily steady. The world seemed to move slowly. My target was an easy mark. He was directly below me. At this angle, I could've hit his head and killed him. I knew that I had to wait. I had to risk letting him run a certain distance from me so the angle was less steep. Only then would I have a better chance of a non-fatal hit.

When I really thought about it, it was not a risk at all. My heart did not race. I was focused. I was confident. My breathing was calm and measured.

My arm moved as I followed my target with the crossbows crosshair mounted at the tip. I noticed that it was slightly crooked. It must've happened when he dropped it. Nobody would've noticed it quite as easily. And yet, I did. I compensated for the crooked crosshair. To me, it was a minor adjustment. The thought that I only had one shot at this did not bother me.

The assassin made a sharp right to the open street. He had abandoned care. His only thought was to escape, accepting failure. The light of sight slanted up gradually to a comfortable angle. I picked a limb, aimed, and pulled the trigger.

The bowstring snapped. It was so tight that it made a _clack_ sound instead of a _twang_. The running target gave out a short cry of pain and fell roughly on the sidewalk. The bolt had struck him on his upper left thigh. A few civilians were stunned at the sight of a fallen masked man. They moved away from him, ignoring his pleas for help. I relaxed my firing stance and hurried over to the fire escape.

* * *

Jasom looked behind him and saw another exit out of the alley. It was long. It meant for him to go around an entire block. It was simply too long.

Jasom, instead, kicked open a metal backdoor of one of the buildings, breaking a deadbolt from the inside. The door led him inside a tight corridor that opened up to a kind of a warehouse for finished furniture products. Several people were in attendance, all looking at the commotion outside, through the south windows. Nobody noticed his arrival until he started yelling, "Out of the way! Military here!"

The startled people obligingly followed. Jasom picked up on of the furniture--an ornately designed chair with leather padding. The smell of varnish was still fresh. A look of horror filled the eyes of the people in the building as Jasom raised the chair over his head and smashed one of the glass windows in his way. A woman screamed from behind him while a few others cursed at him.

_Must've been expensive,_ Jasom thought. _Felt good, though._

He jumped out of the window and landed nimbly on his feet. The burning vehicle was several feet away to his right. Water from the main pipe rained down on him. He hurriedly crossed the street to assist the peacekeepers regroup. Two were injured, though they looked like they would make it. Mr. Marrow was wet from the fountain of city water. He did not move when the others started to get him up his feet.

"You! Find me a vehicle fast! The rest of you, help me get him inside quickly!"

* * *

I jumped off the ladder when I had a safe distance from the ground. I reloaded another iron bolt as I landed nimbly on my feet. I didn't think I'd need it again, but this was one fish I didn't want to let go. From the main street, I heard the screeching of a vehicle as it came to a halt.

_No!_

I ran as fast as I could. My fear was confirmed when I saw the wounded assassin limping his way towards the open vehicle door that had just pulled over. It was his escape vehicle. It looked civilian. The wounded man made his final effort of escape by jumping inside. The vehicle darted away with the assassin's feet still dangling out. The people on the streets scrambled out of the way. My fish had gotten away.

I took a deep sigh of resignation. If Mr. Marrow was still alive, it'd be a stalemate. I gripped the crossbow tightly in my hand. It wasn't a total loss after all. I could probably find something useful about its make.

I wasted no more time. I thought it best to look after Jasom and Mr. Marrow.

* * *

A crowd had gathered around the scene. Our wrecked vehicle still burned. The pressure on the water main was lower now. The water rushed down a sidewalk drain and into the sewers. From a distance, I heard the sirens of local emergency vehicles. I ignored them all as I walked with a strange calmness. It was an eerie feeling. A sense of imperviousness and disinterestedness. It felt dissonantly disturbing, but oddly satisfying. It was a feeling of absolute control over one's mind and body, if not over the situation.

Whatever it was, I was glad it took over me completely. What I saw next might have been utterly shocking to the unprepared soul entering the explosives factory.

Jasom and all of the peacekeepers in the building lay unconscious on the floor, evidently still breathing. Mr. Marrow's body leaned limply against a wall, his head, no where to be found.

* * *

I was back on the roof of the building again, overlooking the activity below. The firefighters had conquered the burning vehicle without much trouble. The ambulances tended to the injured while the local police asked questions. Several street witnesses obligingly recounted all that they saw.

I, on the other hand, was deep in thought, vividly recounting the chain of events in my head. The big picture was deceptive, as I concluded. Things did not make sense. There was a failed assassination attempt and a successful one. Somehow, I knew that the two were not directly connected.

"General?" Jasom called from behind.

My eyes did not leave the crime scene. I searched for familiar faces or suspicious observers below. "Not bad for your first day, huh, Jasom? Are you all right?"

"Seems like it," he said, rubbing the side of his temple. He must've hurt it when he hit the floor.

"So what was it like?" I asked.

"What was what like?" Jasom asked, confused.

"To be brought under by a Sleep spell," I finished.

Jasom blinked. "Was that what happened?" he asked, uneasily.

"Certainly," I replied confidently.

"But how do you know that?"

"I've been listening," I replied, beckoning him to come closer and look at the local police share with each other what they knew down below. "None of you knew what took you out. None of you recall having a violent encounter with anyone. You all just woke up from a dreamless spell, wondering what you were doing on the cold floor."

"You mean... the assassin was a magic-user?"

"Yes and no. There were two of them, at least. The one I was chasing was no magic-user. He was no professional, either. The one that killed Mr. Marrow was a different story."

"We saw nobody in that building. We were waiting for another vehicle to take the witness with us," Jasom said.

"The second assassin was invisible. He was probably waiting for the opportunity for quite a while. And when it finally arrived, he struck."

"Two assassins. You think there were no connections?"

"Not anymore. Their only connection is dead."

Jasom winced in pain. He must've hurt his head worse than I thought. With a word of command, I drove away the lingering pain.

"Thank you," he said in awe.

"Look down there," I said. "Do you see what's missing?"

Jasom looked at the people below. He saw the ambulances, fire trucks and local police. He saw the crowd that had gathered, taking secret pleasure in the commotion that had just broken the monotony of their lives. He saw a city maintenance crew installing a new fire hydrant, and preparing to clear away the ruined vehicle. He even saw the coroner with his own team of inspectors.

"Besides us, there is no other Military presence," Jasom said. It was an accurate observation and a good guess.

"This incident is not going to be a Military affair. Remember that we did not report our presence here to the H.Q. Therefore, the lack of Military presence here is normal. But something else isn't here. Or someone," I hinted.

"Where's the Chief of Police?" he said, suddenly realizing Stromsburg's absence. He had yet to thank her for saving his life. But she was nowhere to be seen. In a major urban disturbance such as this, she should've been in charge of the inspection, interrogation, and cleanup--especially, since she was partly involved.

"That's a very good question." I motioned for him to follow me. It was time for us to leave. "I'm issuing an order to all local hospitals, clinics, trauma centers, medical institutions in all of Vector, to detain and report a male suspect, around my height, with brown eyes, and a wounded left leg who have checked in starting thirty minutes ago." Jasom jotted down the description quickly on his clipboard. "Then, I would like to have this crossbow examined by my team back in H.Q. I want to know the origin based on its design. It doesn't look Vectorian."

"Um... General?" Jasom said with a lowered voice. I turned around in time to see his concerned expression. "Who were we just dealing with back there?"

"Kefka's cultists. They're the only ones who know the secret of the Sleep spell."

"Secret?"

"There are certain magicks that are not yet available for magical infusion. Sleep, Silence, and Flight, are just three of a long list. One of Cid's job is to discover how to _decode_ the magical signatures that can be emulated by machines. This _is_ the heart of the Magitek technology. So far, they've had no luck. Certain magicks are too unpredictable. But Cid's team is making great advancements. The Revive magic, for example, may not yet work perfectly, but they're getting there."

"So you're saying that the Fanatics have perfected the Magi-technology?"

"No. Kefka's Cult does not rely on Magitek. They rely on another source that came before the fusion of magic and machine. It's a process unknown to most people. It is the cult's secret."

"If it's a secret, then how come you know about it?"

I smiled. "Guardian told me. I think it's time for the two of you to meet."


	19. The Other Shoe

**The Other Shoe**

The private library in Magitek Lab Omega was almost always empty. Only privileged people were allowed in it. I was here a few days ago. It was the day I tried to solve the puzzle all by myself and discovered that I needed help. The day Guardian sent me running to stop a fake reactor overload and a fake assassination. The day I discovered that Tina and Terra were the same people. The day I discovered that Cid manufactured a second slave crown to give to Kefka.

The private library was the same place Guardian pointed to me a path to follow. Now, as if in a plot for a great irony, I was back to where I started only because this was where the Guardian's path led me--to Guardian.

I stood before a large screen. It was the same screen I was staring at a few days ago, studying blue prints and security measures littered around the Bronze Compound. I locked the door behind me. Privacy and secrecy were the room's rewards.

"I have great news, Guardian," I said loudly. I knew that the room was soundproof. Guardian herself pointed it out to me. "I've reached the end of the cold trail."

The screen blinked on in an instant. The large screen divided itself into two smaller ones. The top screen showed a view of the inside. I saw myself, standing alone in the middle of the room, looking at my self, in an infinite regress. The bottom screen showed the same view, except through an infrared filter. My heat signature showed. White, red and orange in my centers, blue and purple in my extremities. Beside my infrared image was another ghostly image of a humanoid having the same patches of painted heat emission.

I sighed. _ So much for the surprise._

The other ghostly image was Jasom, cloaked in my Vanish magic. I cast it upon him so he could witness my conversation with Guardian in secret. Unfortunately, Guardian watched not only what were visible, but also what weren't.

"He's harmless, Guardian," I said. "He's my self-appointed aide. He's here to help me."

Guardian spoke finally in her artificial voice. "But, of course, he is. I wouldn't have allowed him to enter the building if he weren't. In fact, I wouldn't have let him live." A bright flash of blue light filled the room for a split of a second. The light seemed to have been magical in nature, for Jasom's barrier of invisibility was dispelled completely. Jasom gave me a concerned look that silently asked, "What now?"

"You'd do that to protect me?" I asked.

"I wouldn't even need to do anything at all. The security system in the building alone is enough to detect and eliminate unauthorized entities. Your friend is under that category," Guardian explained. "Moreover, I'm very disappointed in your deficient effort to smuggle him inside this building."

I heaved another sigh. "I didn't come here to argue, Guardian, so allow me the proper introductions. He is--"

"Keep, Jasom. Lieutenant. Aide to the General. Formerly Private First Class. Last known assignment: Guard duty inside Magitek Lab Alpha.

"That is quite a leap in status, Mr. Keep. Alpha, one day. Omega, the next. What has your general told you about our unpleasant situation?"

"Everything I needed to know," Jasom responded, bluffing.

"You needed to know nothing," Guardian said. It seemed harsh. "You were a protector _of_ secrets, Jasom. And you still are. But do you know what the difference is between then and now?" Jasom was having mixed feelings about responding to Guardian. Perhaps the artificiality of the voice unnerved him. "The difference is this. Before, you were also protected _from_ the secrets. Now, you are exposed to it.

"_In_ i_gnorance there is bliss, they say. Knowledge is power, some reply. But what you will uncover today, are the secrets of the Magi."_

"Pretty poetry," Jasom said, cynically.

"It's more than poetry. It's a prophecy. You are in over your head, Jasom Keep. There is wisdom in choosing ignorance, if you value your life. Leave while the secrets you protect still do not take interest in you."

"Is there a point to this harassment, Guardian?" I interjected. "I--"

"You've brought an outsider into this unstable aggregate of internal power struggles."

"I chose to follow on my own," Jasom said sternly.

"I promised your general protection. The offer is singular."

"Jasom is my responsibility."

"See that you do not forget it." With that, Guardian allowed the conversation to make a turn. "What is this good news you speak of?"

"I followed the clues, and it led me back to you," I answered calmly.

"With a new sense of regard, I hope."

"Yes," I replied almost sounding defeated.

"You are ready to listen?"

"Yes."

"For the benefit of your aide who rejects the safety of ignorance, do share your detective work with us."

"I've read Branford's diary. She followed you without question. And you've always protected her. That is, until she was reassigned to the Infirmary to guard the survivor of the reactor overload. That was the last part of her diary. She did not return to her quarters that day to write any more.

"She couldn't because she was caught in the act of murdering the witness by her very own captain. But she really didn't murder the witness. There were two possibilities. She was either framed or betrayed.

"I assumed that she was betrayed. I assumed that you have betrayed her for you were closest to her. You were capable of forging the assignment requests. And you've failed to protect her when she needed you the most. In turn, she was captured.

"But she escaped, killed the guards, and vanished without a trace, only to reappear much later in the process of breaking into Magitek Warehouse 5. _That _was the defect in the story. Why would Tina Branford, an escaped suspect, be breaking into a building where his captain and dozens of other Imperial soldiers are in--for whatever the reason?

"That was where Kefka had made his mistake. He was not at the top of my list of suspects up until that time. Kefka had made the report of the sighting, specifically saying that it was Tina Branford, and not Terra. A few minutes later, Tina's existence was eradicated--almost. The sheer convenience of it all! Tina Branford's identity went up in flames together with her comrades, friends and acquaintances, and 5,000 pounds of T.N.T. allegedly stolen from an explosives factory that used to supply the mysterious Military's mining project in the east. Suddenly, you and Kefka were tied at the top of my list of suspects.

"The next course of action was obvious. We went to Marrow's factory to interrogate him. It was his T.N.T. so I thought he would know something. As it turned out, he did. Somebody tried to kill him--a magic-user skilled in Sleep and Vanish. It had to be a Fanatic. It had to be Kefka who was ultimately responsible for everything. 

"It was the Cult who silenced the witness. It was the Cult who stole those explosives and stowed it in Magitek Warehouse 5. It was he who somehow gathered all who ever knew Tina Branford with the explosives. It was he who reported the sighting, diverting the search away from the other buildings such as the powering station that Branford infiltrated that contained the Magitek Armo--"

Guardian interrupted. "But why would Branford attack the warehouse?"

"Because she was already under the influence of the first Slave Crown. That had to be it. Kefka ordered her to. Which meant that Kefka had Branford under his secret custody prior to the Terra Episode, and after Tina Branford's escape. Which meant that Tina Branford, did not escape at all. She was broken out of military custody by Kefka's goons who knew exactly where Branford was being held. Which meant that Kefka was the one who reassigned Branford to the Infirmary.

"Branford was framed by Kefka," I concluded proudly. As a parallel, I added, "You did not betray her. You sent me not to discover Branford and her innocence. You sent me to discover yours."

"Indeed, I have. There is not much left to be done with Branford's story. You and only a handful of inconsequential people know of her existence. To most people, she is dead. In many ways, she is. This is your story now, Celes."

"Now what?" I asked. I honestly did not know what to do. Guardian had proven her point. I was out of paths to follow.

"Does this mean you're going to arrest, Adviser Palazzo?" Jasom asked from behind.

"No, Jasom," I answered, shaking my head sadly. "I can't."

He looked confused as ever. "But why not? Your reasoning sounded solid. We can go to the Council and tell them your findings. Maybe you can go directly to the Emperor!"

I sighed yet again. There was much to tell Jasom, and so little time.

"Your general has accomplished a great deal of detective work, Jasom. Superbly! But this is just one mystery out of the many."

"So?" 

"I'm afraid it's not that easy, Jasom," I tried to explain. "The New Council is another story."

"For the sake of the one I've promised to protect, I shall explain this to you. So listen carefully. Your general is not an observer. She is a player--a very special piece--in a deadly game of secrets. She is not doing this investigation for justice--"

"As much as I would like to pursue it," I added before I let Guardian finish her sentence.

"She is doing this for survival. Your general asked what she should do next. I will now tell the both of you." Guardian paused for effect. "March to the New Council. Take the earpiece and the microphone so we remain in contact. There has been development while you were gone."

"What development?" I asked.

"You are about to declare war to Maranda."

"What?! On what grounds?" Jasom asked suddenly.

"And I suggest that you leave your pet outside the door. The New Council will not take too kindly to insubordinate outbursts such as that," Guardian added. The screen went blank.

On the way out, Jasom asked, "You're not going to do it, are you? Who is she? Why do you listen to her?"

"Guardian, I'm afraid, is one of the very limited chances of survival that I have."

"Survival? You still haven't told me who's after you."

"Kefka's after me. Kefka wants to control me as he now controls Tina Branford."

"He can't do that. You're a general," Jasom reasoned. His naivete was forgivable.

"Tina Branford fell easily because she was not. And you are right; I am still here because I am a general of the army. I am more protected. But make no mistake about it, Jasom, Kefka and his Cult will find a way. He will concoct a lie to ultimately gain his excuse to put that Slave Crown on my head."

"What's a Slave Crown?"

"It's a device that makes you follow without question what is asked of you as a slave would. It's impossible to resist, and there is no known method of reversing the process. In short, it's a device that turns you into a zombie."

Jasom was silent for a moment, thinking. "That's what happened to Branford? Couldn't Professor Marguez do something about it?"

I stared straight ahead of me and frowned. "Cid created the second Slave Crown intended for me," I said simply to invoke a feeling of shock from him. It worked well.

"What?! But... h-how... w-why would he...?"

"When I told you that I can't trust anybody, I meant it."

"You trust this Guardian?"

"To an extent."

"I see. You didn't tell her about the other assassin. Or the other greater part of the stolen explosives. Or Stromsburg," Jasom observed.

"Those mysteries do not yet concern her or us just yet. We'll take it one puzzle at a time. We'll follow Guardian's lead. She's protected me. She's opened up my eyes. If she says we're going into a state of war, it may not be a matter of will at all." 


	20. Red Herring and Snipes

**Red Herring and Snipes**

Colonel Harold Llurd stood straight and proudly before the New Council, unaffected by their scrutinizing eyes. He waited patiently for the ten members to finish their voting. It was quick. They all scribbled their answers in small pieces of paper which they promptly passed down to the presiding chairman who sat in the center. The chairman tallied the votes and read off the verdict.

"The New Council finds your evidence compelling and shall approve your request to take action. When are you ready to depart?"

"My men and I are ready at a moment's notice, Honorable Gents. However, I dare not take the opportunity away from our new and respected general, Lady Chere."

"And have you spoken with the general, Colonel Llurd?" the presiding chairman asked.

"Alas, Honorable Gents. She was nowhere to be found within the Bronze Compound when my spies reported to me this morning. Her task lately has been rather involving. I took the liberty to take the report to you directly. Whatever course of action is to take place next, I place it humbly at the general's feet," Llurd said slyly.

"Most noble of you, Colonel. Does anybody present here today know the whereabouts of the Lady Chere?" the presiding chairman asked the audience. None spoke.

The chamber door opened and a messenger walked in followed by two people. The messenger announced the presence.

"Honorable Gents, Lady Chere has arrived." He bowed and stepped aside for Celes to proceed.

Celes walked to the center in a dignified manner. Llurd bowed out and situated himself behind the general. Jasom stood with the messenger by the door and listened. It wasn't long till he saw another Lieutenant eyeing him intently. It was Lt. Barnes. Though Jasom didn't know his name, he knew that he was with the Colonel. Their eyes locked. They gave each other the kind of look that usually started fights in mess halls. And though Jasom was not the type to be baited by icy stares, he disliked the man from the start. He immediately marked him as an enemy. Just then, Jasom had a gut feeling that their paths would cross again and that their interaction would be a bit more physical. The two broke their stares when the general spoke.

"Greetings, Honorable Council members," Celes started. "I have heard of a certain development that concerns me. I came the soonest I could."

"We have received reports from our remote intel that Maranda is harboring spies for the rebels. Colonel Harold Llurd came to us with the report, and has just requested permission to take action. The Council voted in his favor," the presiding chairman briefed.

"I would like to see that report," Celes asked respectfully.

Guardian spoke to her in her tiny earpiece. "Look at it. Read all the pages carefully, and take your time. Do not let your face betray your emotions. You are being watched and judged."

A Council attendant walked up to the presiding chairman, took a folder and handed it to the general. Celes took the folder in her hands and opened it. She started reading the documents. The room gave her the silence she needed. All eyes were upon her. They waited for her to finish. Jasom could not imagine being in the middle of very important people. He'd probably be sweating just about now. But he observed that Celes was calm and not the least bit affected by the awkwardness of the atmosphere. She knew that she was in charge. She made them wait. The Council did not mind it at all. Harold Llurd found it annoyingly amusing.

Guardian's voice continued. "Nod vaguely. The document is convincing enough to declared legit. The report, however, is a lie. It's bait. Kefka is testing you, Celes. They want to see how you would respond. Do not contest the document. Stare into the chairman's eyes and do not blink. Close the document and hold it out for the attendant to retrieve."

Celes did as she was told. She knew that the presiding chairman was not the enemy. But the minute action and reaction that she was to make were all measured carefully by everybody. Poise was everything.

"Do _not_ ask who will lead the reactionary force. _Tell_ them that _you_ will lead it."

"I will lead the troops to Maranda!" she said loud and clear for everybody in the chamber to hear.

"That decision has been waived due to your absence. Colonel Llurd presently holds that decision as dictated by the Council," the presiding chairman calmly said. "However, if you so wish, we could take a vote..."

"Face Llurd and give him the coldest look you can muster. The people must see," Guardian instructed.

Celes didn't need that last instruction. That was her first reaction, and she didn't have to pretend.

Colonel Llurd bowed down from the waste and held that position. "May I speak?" he said.

"You have the floor, Colonel Llurd," the chairman said, motioning to the center of the floor. It was Celes' turn to step aside.

"My intentions are not to wrest away this opportunity for the general to prove herself. I respectfully surrender my position in the matter to Lady Chere. I ask only that I accompany her in the mission. My men and I are at her disposal," Llurd finished, equally satisfied with his noble act. There were whispers and nods all around.

"Accept it, Celes, and be gracious. Accept the terms," Guardian said.

"I accept," she said simply. She was not too thrilled about the condition that Llurd should be with her.

"I am most grateful, Lady Chere," Llurd said again, bowing. "I give the floor to you."

Llurd stepped off the center and Celes took over.

"Well, then!" the presiding chairman began, looking pleased. "Protocol dictates that you neutralize the threat, Lady Chere. I leave the execution of the plan to your capable hands. When can you begin?"

Guardian told Celes the time.

"Tomorrow at sundown," Celes echoed.

The Council members all nodded to each other. The presiding chairman stood up and announced, "Full authorization is given to Lady Celes Chere, with the verbal terms of agreement given by Colonel Llurd duly recognized by this Council. This meeting is ended!"

* * *

"Since when did the Council get to make Military decisions like that?" Jasom whispered to me as we exited the council chamber.

"Since it got reformed by General Cristophe," I answered, glancing around us for eavesdroppers.

"Well, it's about time," Jasom muttered with a twisted smile.

"Time has nothing to do with it. Recall that it was because of the Council that I'm a general today."

"Please don't tell me that the Council is another player," he whispered back with a slight groan.

"You better believe it."

The afternoon sun bore down on everybody in the open training grounds. Drill sergeants and new recruits alike saluted to us as we passed. My mind was racing. Preparations needed to be done for many things. I hoped that Guardian had a plan.

"You do believe it, don't you?" I asked suddenly when I noticed that he was silent after that.

"After all the things I've seen or heard, I'm very convinced that you're not just being paranoid," Jasom replied. It took it as a compliment and smiled. "Although, I still could not believe that Professor Marquez is working against you," he added.

"I guess I made it sound too negative. He's not exactly an enemy. He did create a second Slave Crown, but only because Kefka threatened him. I did see Cid try to destroy the crown to protect me, though."

"So, he's still a friend, right?"

I paused to think long and hard. Or perhaps I was hesitant to answer the question. "He keeps many secrets about my past. He's hiding them from me, and until I figure out what they are or why he does it... I simply cannot trust him."

Jasom thought in silence again. He stared at the pavement as he did so. "Maybe he's just trying to protect you. Kinda like what Guardian told us about 'safety in ignorance.'"

"Maybe," I said. The thought had occurred to me.

I tapped the earpiece twice with my finger to reactivate it. Guardian's voice was as clear as it was inside the building. She must've been broadcasting from a very powerful source. I hoped that I would one day come up with a way to pinpoint her exact location in Vector.

"Where are you headed?"

"We're headed your way," I answered back, adjusting my microphone.

"Don't bother. I've nothing new to add," she responded.

"What do you mean, you've nothing to add?" I asked, suddenly stopping in my tracks. Jasom halted his steps, too, and looked at me in distress. "I followed your lead, and it put me in a situation with Maranda!"

"Maranda is a red herring. It could've been any other nation. The location was only a matter of convenience. You're not even leading a force to the main city--just a small farming community."

"Population?"

"Latest record indicates a population of 112."

Jasom cleared his throat, vaguely motioning to the incoming group of new recruits marching our way. We looked conspicuous standing in the middle of the training grounds. Taking his hint, I started to walk again, towards the H.Q. Jasom followed behind, listening.

"It's still an act of war, Guardian," I argued.

"I'm sure they wouldn't retaliate."

"That's not the point!" I yelled. A few soldiers looked our way but continued on. "That's not the point," I repeated in a lower voice.

"I agree. It's not," Guardian said. "The point is that you were being judged, and you will be judged again on how you handle this situation."

"What situation? I thought you said that the reports were bogus!"

"They are. There is no rebel activity in that location, or at least, none that our spies can legitimately detect. Like I said, it's a lure, and you just bit."

"Only because you told me to," I said vehemently through gritted teeth. Jasom flinched at the sight of me in ire.

"You had no choice. You had to take the lead. It's what generals do. Had you passed the opportunity down to Llurd, the military would be passing rumors about your weakness this instant."

"That's just great! I just agreed to lead a snipe hunt! And if we don't find a snipe, the Military will be passing judgment about me later. Either way, I'll look bad. There's no way out of this and Llurd knows it!"

"You don't need a snipe to look good," Guardian said optimistically. I waited for her to tell me of her plan.

"Go on."

"When you get there, round the people up and threaten them. Tell them to give the rebels up to you or else you'll start killing people. It's the show that counts, Celes."

"Obviously, none of them will admit to it. What happens then."

As if the answer was obvious, Guardian said casually, "Start killing people."

I waited for more. But that was it. That was her plan. She was suggesting that I kill innocent people to look convincing. To be regarded by the Military with respect. To prove to the Military that I am not hesitant to get my hands dirty in battles. After all, 'it was all for show.' I felt sick to my stomach.

"You sick, heartless bitch!" I shouted, yanking out the earpiece, microphone and the small wires out. I clutched at the apparatus, held it in front of me, letting the microphone dangle freely. "That's supposed to make me look good?! And to think that I did all those secret favors for you those nights! You think it's easy being sleepless for days just thinking whether it's worth letting you ride me like a barn animal! You've always put me in difficult, risky positions. And when I finally do trust you, you tell me to put up a big show in front of everybody to satisfy their primal expectations?" I shouted into the microphone. 

To Jasom, it had seemed like I shouted too loudly. He was right in front of me with open mouth and wide eyes. He was pale. He knew that the things I had said weren't intended for him but... the other people within earshot didn't.

It was my turn to freeze in shock of the realization of what I had just done. My eyes looked around for those who had heard my outburst. There were quite a few who looked towards our direction. Most of them were new recruits, gawking at us as though the two of us were a couple in a rather shameless marital argument.

And how could they not have thought of that? I repeated the words I had said in my head and winced at each sentence. Just then, the both of us wished that a huge explosion would break the horrendously long awkward moment. It didn't matter if we were at the epicenter of it. _Gods! Just let it end! And poor Jasom! _He had nothing to do with it, yet he was forced to endure the embarrassment with me. 

I had no doubt in my mind that the both of us tried to think of something to say to salvage the situation. Unfortunately, it soon dawned on us that it was futile.

Jasom reached for the dangling microphone that I still held in front of me. All that time, I dared not move. Nobody else knew what it really was. The recruits' minds were somewhere else.

"You're right, General," Jasom said loudly. "That's what I should tell my girlfriend. Thank you for the advice."

I knew that nobody would buy it. Nevertheless, it was a valiant effort on his part. I turned on my heels and started to walk again, avoiding the stares of some recruits around us.

"What are you all looking at?!" he yelled at the gawkers. They dispersed within seconds, and Jasom caught up with me.

For a long moment, we said nothing. We didn't even look at each other. When we were finally and surely out of hearing range of other people, Jasom decided to break the silence between us.

"Impeccable choice of words, General," he said with a grin.

I couldn't help but smile. "Let us never speak of this again, Jasom."

Jasom didn't give up. He was intent on cheering me up. "Aw, it wasn't that bad, General. Now... did you say 'risky' or 'risque?'"

I chuckled and he heard it. It only encouraged him more.

"I said 'risky.' Definitely. Now, shut up." 

"I suppose it's a consolation that my girlfriend wasn't there to hear that."

I laughed openly now. Jasom, too.

"The last thing I need is another person out to get me," I replied.

* * *

I should've remembered the first time Guardian led the way for me. On my way to break into the Devil's Lab, she suggested that I reprogram a Magitek Drone to kill the guards. And in Tina Branford's diary, it was clear that Guardian would do anything to keep a promise, even if it meant murdering the innocent people to keep the secret intact--like the first reactor explosion was meant to eliminate the witnesses. She was frighteningly unconscientious.

But the scarier certainty was that she spoke the truth. She was smart; her lead was undoubtedly the right thing to do. Soldiers expected generals to lead and to contest their rightful claims. And since the mission was a red herring, the primary concern of those unwittingly involved was I.

_The Military will expect me to get results. If the villagers don't turn in a rebel--and they won't--then, I will have to do something drastic. Letting them off with a warning will certainly be taken as a sign of weakness. I will have to be convincing in front of everybody. Sadly, the only thing convincing enough for the Military is the sight and smell of real blood._

I gave Guardian the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps, she was simply being amoral about it. In any case, I was faced with an inescapable dilemma. I have till tomorrow's sunset to come up with a plan. _ How do you fake the murder of many?_

"That's Guardian's plan?" Jasom asked in disbelief.

"Yes," I answered, sounding guilty. It seemed as if it was partly my idea.

Jasom waited for me to say more. When he noticed that I had nothing more to add, he asked again, "Well, you're not going to do it, are you?"

"Of course, not!" I snapped back, wounded. "At least, not the last part of her plan."

That seemed to have assured Jasom a bit, though, I knew that he was also lost in thought of how I could avoid _that_ last part. He frowned. "So what do we do now?"

The train stopped right in front of us, and the door opened with a hiss. We stepped in. We were alone in the compartment. Jasom and I sat on opposite seats, facing each other. I waited for the door to close again before I said something.

"I'm not sure, Jasom. But we're gonna need help more help. What has H.Q. found about our lost perpetrator?"  
"Nothing, General. All hospitals reported, but nobody matched your description," Jasom said, flipping the pages on his clipboard.

"What of the crossbow?"

"Figaroan. That's North."

"Where the rebels are," I said thoughtfully. "We're going back to the Marigolds. It's our best lead." 


	21. Triggerman

**Triggerman**

Tomyn, a nineteen year-old peacekeeper trainee, lay on the bed, trying to get some rest. His face looked very weary. Two hours ago, a bolt of iron about a foot long, protruded from his left upper thigh. It had to be extracted without the use of any medical tool. The pain was excruciating. Jennina Stromsburg advised against going to any hospital or clinic. They had no choice but to dress the wound themselves--Mr. Clive Omil and Jennina.

Tomyn had lost a lot of blood, but not enough to place him in critical condition. He was lucky that the general missed her mark. He thought about the incident. He only wanted to kill Mr. Marrow. The manager of the explosives factory knew secrets about him that would place him in danger with higher authorities. He would've been successful, too, if it hadn't been for the general of the army. 

"You have a lot of explaining to do!" Stromsburg yelled angrily as she burst back in the room. She was in tears. Stromsburg grabbed him by the collar and started to hit him across the face. Tomyn reacted like a scared child.

"Please! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" he cried.

"Sorry?!" Stromsburg shouted in exasperation without ceasing to hit the young man. "What did you think you were doing? I did not raise you to be this stupid! I took pride in all of you, and this is how you repay me?"

Tomyn continued to cry. He didn't even pay attention to Stromsburg's halfhearted thrashing. It was her words of rebuke that hurt him the most.

"I did not raise a criminal! I worked hard to get you off the bad side of the streets! Each and every one of you... where have I gone wrong?!" Jennina staggered back, hands over her face, weeping. She leaned against the closest wall and slid down the floor, crouched and sobbing uncontrollably. It was a mother's cry. One who had been betrayed by her own son. "What did I do wrong?"

Tomyn couldn't answer. He wanted to tear his own heart out as punishment. Above all, he never wanted to hurt the only family he'd ever known. He, too, was a child of the Marigolds.

"I... panicked," he replied lamely. "I'm sorry."

"What am I going to do with you now? If they find out-- the General will find out--"

"Turn me in!" Tomyn volunteered, suddenly stopping his sobs. It was as if he had just found an answer for redemption. "T-tell them t-that you caught m-me. I'll confess-s everything!"

Jennina wailed louder. The thought was too unbearable for her to even imagine.

"Matron! Please don't cry! It wasn't your f-fault."

"I can't turn you in!" she blurted out in-between sobs. "Gods! Please don't let them find you!"

Tomyn tried to get up from the bed. Pain overtook his entire left leg and waist. He stumbled and fell on the floor in front of Stromsburg. He crawled the short distance to reach her finally then hugged her. Stromsburg hugged her back tightly. "I cannot turn you in to die! They will surely kill you!"

"We have no choice. I will t-take responsibility."

"No!" she cried out vehemently. "You will hide. Y-you will run away. Get as f-far away as you can and never come back. I'd rather know that you're alive."

"Heal."

Tomyn's dressed wound glowed a golden aura. He felt a chilling sensation before the healing warmth. In a few more seconds, he was able to move his leg without feeling pain. As a side-effect of my healing magic, my Invisibility barrier shattered, revealing my presence to them.

Jennina reacted instinctively. She pulled Tomyn closer to the ground and tried her best to place herself between his foster son and my self. She reached fumbled for her weapon. It was a stun stick. She was still partially crouched on the floor as she raised it threateningly at me. With a swift move of my left hand, I cut the stunner in half with my sword. My sword was back in its sheath in a second.

I held up my hands and sat down on the bed. I wanted to let them know that I meant them no harm.

"You can't take him!" Jennina Stromsburg shouted bravely. "I don't care if you're Military or not. He's entitled to a trial!"

"Mrs. Stromsburg, I am not here to condemn your son."

"She didn't do anything!" Tomyn suddenly shouted from behind Stromsburg. "It was all my fault! I acted alone. P-please. You have to believe me!"

"Just relax. Please," I begged them. They were both on their feet now with Jennina still trying to keep my away with her broken stunner. "I'm not here to arrest either of you. I just want to talk."

"We're listening," Jennina said, her sobs quickly disappearing.

"No, you're not," I said sternly. "Put that ridiculous thing down, and let's talk in the living room."

They both didn't move. So, I made the first one. I stood up and casually walked out of the room, turning my back to them like they weren't a threat to me. In the living room, I waited on a chair beside a fireplace with my legs crossed. I made no attempt to prevent their possible escape.

The two of them walked out cautiously. They saw me, but did not follow suit. They just stood there. Jennina was trying to read my face. She did not succeed.

"Sit down, please," I said gently. "If I wanted to hurt him, I wouldn't have healed his leg."

"It was you who tried to kill him," Jennina retorted.

"Wrong, Mrs. Stromsburg. I'm a frightfully good shot. If I wanted him dead, he'd be at the city morgue right now."

"You have the wrong person, Celes. I beg of you. This is all a misunderstanding," she pleaded.

"That wasn't what I heard back there, Mrs. Stromsburg. I know everything about his attempt to murder Mr. Marrow."

"He's still alive?" Tomyn interrupted, suddenly interested to know.

"No, he's very much dead," I replied.

"Gods!" Stromsburg prayed.

"Your son was not responsible for his death," I said quickly. "Another killed him."

Stromsburg's eyes went wide in puzzlement. She turned to Tomyn for an explanation.

"I swear it, Matron! I acted alone!"

"And I believe him!" I added. "Sit down and let me explain why I'm here." Finally, they did. They were almost glad that they did. It was as if their legs had been wanting to get some rest. 

"I'm after a bigger fish," I said, getting right to the point. "Your son's crime means nothing to me or the Military." Their eyes never blinked. They paid close attention and waited anxiously. "The truth is... I need your help."

The last sentence came very unexpectedly to them. Neither found the courage to ask.

"I need to know why your son wanted Mr. Marrow dead."

They glanced at each other. "You don't have to tell her anything," Stromsburg said.

"It's too late for that, Matron," Tomyn said, his eyes filled with sorrow.

"Tell me," I said gently. "Mr. Marrow was killed by another before he could tell us the information that I needed for my investigation."

"Tomyn!"

"You promise to leave her out of this?" Tomyn asked as a condition.

"I promise to leave the both of you out of this mess. I just need the information," I assured him.

"I want this in writing!" Stromsburg said boldly.

I sighed. "Trust me, Mrs. Stromsburg, you do _not_. Should anybody else find out about this, what you fear the most would most certainly happen. _I _do not have the power to pardon. Generals never had that power. It's a council decision, and I'm not too keen of their politics."

"Then we have your word, at least?" Tomyn asked nervously.

"You have my word of personal reprieve. Please, tell me why you wanted him dead."

"Tomyn, don't--"

"I made a deal with him. Just me and Mr. Marrow," he said quickly, ignoring Stromsburg.

"What kind of deal?" I asked.

"He needed to get rid of his explosives. I knew about the law and his predicament. How could I not? We are the enforcers."

"How many did you take, Tomyn?"

Tomyn swallowed nervously. Stromsburg sat quietly now, her eyes watering slowly again. Tomyn bowed his head and answered, "4,000 pounds."

I did a quick math in my head. _ That accounts for everything. Around 5,000 for Magitek Warehouse 5, about 6,000 for the abandoned meat packing plant, and 4,000 for... _

"What for, Tomyn?"

"I don't know. I acted as a middle person."

"For who?" Stromsburg asked the question for me.

"Some guy with Jidooran accent. I don't know who he is."

"Jidooran? Describe him to me,"

"He was about my height with a cheery attitude. Yellow hair, brown eyes, freckled face--very educated when he spoke, though you kinda get this feeling that he was sort of a klutz." 

"Where did you meet the first time?"

"Police Headquarters in the City Circle. He was a tourist asking for directions. But even he stood out from the rest of the tourists."

"Oh? How so?" Even Stromsburg raised her brows in intrigue.

"I expected him to be asking directions to the local museum, or the library, perhaps. Or even the Vectorian Opera House. Instead, he asked where he could get a hold of dynamites."

"I remember him!" Stromsburg interceded. "He said he was scouting for mining supplies in the area. He didn't look too suspicious. I mean... what criminal would walk into a police station and ask where he could buy explosives? We just assumed that he was in the business legitimately. Besides, we kept records of Mr. Marrow's customers. This person's name didn't show up on the list. We figured that he had found his supplier elsewhere."

"What was his name?" I asked.

Stromsburg paused to think really hard. She was being very cooperative this time. Anything to divert the topic of conversation away from them. "Drat! It started with a 'V.'"

"Mr. Verde," Tomyn said guiltily.

Stromsburg frowned and glanced at him. "So you're saying that was not the last you've seen of him?"

"After we gave him a list of suppliers in Vector, I had a word with him in secret. It was I who struck a deal with him. The man was innocent, Matron."

I trusted Stromsburg to ask the right questions for me this time. I chose to listen quietly. 

"What exactly was the deal, Tomyn?"

He sighed, instinctively rubbing his healed wound. "I remembered Mr. Marrow's predicament. So I thought I'd... help him out."

"'Help him out?' He reported it as theft! It was a shady deal."

Tomyn hung his head in shame. "It seemed so harmless at the time."

"You took advantage of Mr. Marrow. I know that he had a less-than-reputable history with us, but that was no excuse."

"I-I realize that now. I'm sorry."

"How much did you sell the explosives for?"

"7,000 kirians," he responded promptly.

"And how much did you share with Mr. Marrow?"

Almost inaudibly, Tomyn replied, "None."

Stromsburg sighed heavily. "You knew he was in trouble. You knew he'd be better off giving them away. That's entrapment, Tomyn. Entrapment, extortion, and attempted murder..." Stromsburg's last word trailed off to a silent sob.

Tomyn's shoulders began to tremble. He, too, was going to cry. I had to say something to stop the both of them. There were a lot of ground to cover. "You kept all the money to yourself, Tomyn?"

"No! I kept none of it!" he said defensively and almost proudly. That was when he realized his mistake. He should not have said it at all.

I gave him a look of puzzlement. Stromsburg, too. "Where is the money?"

He swallowed nervously. His eyes darted around the room, blinking fast. He was thinking of a lie. He was that readable. "I... I can't tell you that. It's personal."

"Tomyn, I don't care about your personal life. I just want things accounted for. Where is the money?"

Tomyn didn't respond. He shot Stromsburg a pleading look, asking her in silence to redirect the conversation elsewhere. Though, Stromsburg wanted to know about the money, too, she thought she had better help her foster son first.

"Celes... I thought you said you have bigger fish to catch? So far, all these questions incriminate my son."

"Why shouldn't they, Mrs. Stromsburg? Your son was in contact with questionable characters. They're the ones I'm after."

"I cannot help you, General," Tomyn said resolutely. "I would rather go to jail."

I sighed and stared into his eyes. He felt uncomfortable, as though I was trying to call his bluff. "Your mother would hate to see you in jail, Tomyn. Would you really put these characters before her?"

Tomyn looked at her with pain-filled, loving eyes. "It's because of her that I believe in--"

"The cause?" I finished.

They both looked at me in shock and horror. "I... don't know what you're talking about," Tomyn lied.

"I cannot waste time here trying to prove to you how I know about it. But I do. In fact, it was only yesterday that you had a bit of a powwow with the enemies of Vector under the orphanage. I had a spy listen in on the entire meeting."

"How did you--?"

"Find out? I have my sources. But that's not important. I--"

"I'm not going to betray them to you!" Tomyn said adamantly. "Like I said, 'I'd rather go to jail.'"

"Don't be so presumptuous. I'm not after the rebels. They're not a threat to us." It was hard to tell whether Tomyn was relieved to hear that or if he was insulted. "I take it that the money went to them?"

Tomyn did not respond. He didn't need to.

"What exactly do you want from us, Celes? Just tell us."

"I will tell you. And you will not ask questions. That's my condition."

She nodded. I didn't take it as a promise.

"Tomorrow at sundown, I will lead a force to a Maranda village in search for reported rebel presence. I will round up the population and ask them to turn the rebels in. If they don't, I will have no choice but to start killing people until they do."

"But there aren't any--" Tomyn began.

"I know," I cut off.

"Those people are inno--" Stromsburg wanted to add.

"I know!" I said. "I do not want to kill them. But I am expected to do these things. I have no choice."

"How can you not have a cho--"

"I thought I told you questions aren't allowed?" I said, halting Stromsburg's outburst. "Hear me out. The play is going to run this way whether or not I give the order. Those people are doomed... unless you can help me save them."

"Us?" Stromsburg said, looking incredulous. "What's this got to do with us?"

"Simple. You're the only one I know who care enough for the innocent," I said to Stromsburg. Then, turning to Tomyn, I said, "And _you_ owe me."

"What do you want us to do?"

I stood up and walked to open the front door. Jasom was on guard outside, waiting. Stromsburg and Tomyn, both stood up in alarm. "Change into something comfortable. We ride to Maranda." 


	22. Lantern Villages

**Lantern Villages**

Our gas-powered military vehicle could only take us so far. The border patrols were tight. I did not want the H.Q. to be alerted of my departure, therefore, I could not use my rank to let us slide past the blocks. Once at the border, we parked our vehicle in a secluded but inconspicuous area. We went invisibly on foot, past the border guards and across a ring of restricted border grounds around Vector four miles wide. Any unauthorized trek across the belt was met with fatal encounters by a squadron of Spitfires that tirelessly circled along it. Our invisibility barrier lasted long enough.

Tomyn, who had just recovered from an injury, slowed us down a bit. It was to be understood. My Heal magic did the best it could. The rest was up to his own body. Stromsburg asked plenty of questions despite our agreement. I let a few slide, but not most. I had no love for the rebels. I had no love for the sympathizers. I'd have arrested them and put them behind bars if the situation were different. But the situation was beyond treason. 

I needed their help. I had not yet a plan in my head, but whatever it might be, I would require a means of communication between my self and the citizens of Maranda. Such a communication was not directly possible. _Why would anybody trust a messenger who would announce her self to be the bringer of death and ruin?_

Therefore, I needed others to speak for me. With such a short time before the date, Jasom, Stromsburg and Tomyn were all that I could muster. They had to do. For tomorrow, there would be a battle--a battle between my self and my very own military. I needed to win it.

Stromsburg, though mostly confused, slowly understood my dilemma. I did not give her the details of the conspiracy. In fact, I did not mention it to her at all. All that she knew and understood in the end was that I had no choice but to march and attack. And if I should decide not to lead the march, another would only take my place.

Jasom was quiet for most of the time we walked together, thinking of a plan. Besides my self and Guardian, he was the only one who understood the play that was about to happen on stage the next day. "Convincing the military by not killing the innocent people would have to be one heck of a magic trick," he had commented.

Once we had crossed the restricted belt, we came upon a huge-sized caravan. They had settled themselves beyond the killing zone and did their business of trade. Tents were pitched, booths were erected, wares were laid down and displayed everywhere. Chocobos, horses and mules were tethered to trees and manmade posts. The place looked like a bazaar. These traders were the usual Vector-goers before the lockdown. None of them had set foot onto Vector ever since the Terra Episode.

They came from many villages, towns, and nearby kingdoms. Just like Vector's citizens, their lives had been drastically changed. They had relied very much on trading in the City Circle of Vector. Now their trading nexus was off-limits to them. Income had gone down and many had grown desperate. The many who tried to cross the restricted belt died on the spot, shot down by Spitfire units or bombarded by Magitek Armor discharges from miles away.

Soon, the traders got the message and ceased trying. Instead, they settled down as close to Vector as they could, waiting for Vector's gates to reopen. In the meantime, the caravan had grown in considerable size that the exchange of wares and money soon took place in spite of it all.

I dispelled the barrier that covered Stromsburg and Jasom. I gave the both of them careful instructions of what to do next. As the visible ones walked through the busy trading grounds, Tomyn and I trailed them silently, carefully avoiding bumping into other people.

We arrived first at a Chocobo seller. The farmer who was in charge happened to have five at the time. Stromsburg bought four with the money I had provided her. While this deal was going on, Jasom went to the nearest clothes dealer and bought cloaks for the two of us. He made sure that the fashion style was Marandan. A disguise was in order if I were to hide my rank.

The four of us regrouped at the western edge of the caravan. Jasom and I wore the cloaks over our uniforms. Tomyn and Stromsburg looked inconspicuous enough in their clothes. We rode the giant birds westward. They may not have been the healthiest of the flock, but I observed them to be well-disciplined.

We crossed plains, and grasslands before we saw the first signs of the independent farming villages who owed allegiance to no kingdom or nation. Such villages, or even towns, were not uncommon miles beyond Vector's borders. The villages were either too remote or too small for certain kingdoms to take interest in them. They were mostly self-sufficient, staving off bandits and raiders with their own militia. If one had a mighty aerial view, clusters of these independent villages could be found in all directions from Vector. 

To the north were the Sith Cairn Villages, so-named due to the ancient monoliths that had been built around in a cryptic pattern seen from above. To the west were the Lantern Villages. They were aptly named so due to their use of colorful and festive-looking lanterns as street lamps. Caravans that traveled from one village to the other made sure that these lanterns were used to ward off possible raiders. The distinct lanterns usually meant that the caravan was protected by the village militia or formidable Maranda escorts.

"How did these villages become part of Maranda anyway? They're hundreds of miles away from the Maranda mainland!" Stromsburg observed. She was already getting tired of the chocobo ride.

It was a good question. The village was closer to Vector and three other nations than its own. Maranda's mainland was easier to reach by taking a boat and following the southern shore to the west. To reach Maranda by land, one would have to travel west, past the village nestled between two mountain ranges, across more grasslands and a small patch of desert, and then south as one hit the western shore. Reaching the Maranda mainland by land was impossible to do in one day.

Fortunately for us, the Military chose the orphaned Maranda village. It was good enough for them. It was logical, too; a rebel outpost was never on the mainland. The location added to the plausibility factor of the falsified reports. Jasom was kind enough to explain the rest to us.

"It didn't used to be part of Maranda until one of the Lantern Villages decided to strike a deal with the nation. The nameless Lantern Village voluntarily submitted their allegiance to Maranda in a typical commonwealth concord. This meant that they would pay taxes to Maranda for all their trading income."

"Taxes from a small village? Was it worth it?" Stromsburg asked.

"Very. Think about it. Vector is at the nexus of trade for this continent. Maranda is at the western end. The location is her disadvantage. Foreign trade for her is slower than the other nations and kingdoms. The deal struck with a simple village changed that.

"The village volunteers their allegiance to Maranda. In return, Maranda upholds the commonwealth concord by sending enough troops to protect the village's caravan, or by supporting the local militia with weapons and supplies. With the soldiers from Maranda, they no longer need to fear the raiders that plague this place. With that protection established, the pass is now safer for the other caravans to use. They are encouraged to continue westward without fear. The trade routes are extended to the west and this makes everybody a winner.

"Maranda is already cooperating with the other western nations to build a railroad. The humble Lantern Village will be a full-blown trading outpost once it's done."

"Why not just ferry across the sea?"

I answered this one. "Because Albrook charges too much for using their ports and ferrying services. This is partly Vector's fault. Vector's very protective of the seaport in Albrook. They're slowly turning it into a Military seaport, too. Only rich traders are able to ferry their wares with mandatory naval escorts."

I didn't know about that bit of information until I became a general. The military politics that I hated gradually became clearer to me.

It wasn't long after that when we saw the first of the Lantern Villages. The sun was still readying itself for the setting. Three more hours, perhaps. The lanterns weren't lit yet though we saw people readying the lamps around the village. According to our Intel, the next village was going to be our target.

"Do we have a plan yet?" Stromsburg asked impatiently. "I'm still not sure why they would listen to us."

I wasn't sure either. Jasom glanced at me, giving me a hopeful look. I simply shook my head.

"I almost wish the reports were true," I said. "Then I wouldn't have to pretend. I wish I could run away from this, too."

"Couldn't you have contested the reports?" Tomyn asked.

"And made my self look like a weakling in front of the Military?" I paused. "I should've," I said with a sigh of resignation.

"You didn't have a choice," Jasom said encouragingly.

"Oh, yes, I did. I just blindly waived it when I took Guardian's lead."

"Who?" Stromsburg asked, curious.

"Never you mind," I said firmly. "But the point is that the Council has already made up their decision. Only General Cristophe or the Emperor could've reversed it. Not that they would've were they even present at the time."

"What exactly are we hoping to accomplish there?" Tomyn asked.

"The incursion cannot be stopped even if General Chere steps down. We know that already. The only thing we could hope for right now is to have minimal casualties."

"Zero," I said resolutely. "I want zero civilian casualties and no follow-up raids! I want this to be done tomorrow. I want it to _end_ tomorrow. This can only be done if I do what is expected of me. They want to see me draw blood. If I weasel out of it, it would only make things worse. They'd most likely order other villages to be raided. Anything to make me look bad."

"There's nobody in that village who deserves to die," Jasom muttered.

Tomyn thought about what Jasom said for a few seconds. "What about criminals?" he said afterward.

"Say what?" Jasom asked.

"Criminals deserve the punishment. Why not kill them in front of the Military instead of the innocent?"

"What criminals do you speak of?" I asked, intrigued.

"We have murderers locked up in prison back in Vector!" he said, suddenly excited about his idea. "Let's take a couple of them and make them look like they're rebels! I don't know... let's tie them up and gag them so they can't protest. When you ask the villagers to give the rebels up, we'll bring them out with blindfolds, and you may execute them in front of everybody!"

Stromsburg's face was red with anger.

"Have you completely lost your sense of morality?!" she yelled in rebuke. "First you try to murder a man, then, you're suggesting that we do it again!"

"But they're criminals!"

"They're people who've made mistakes! Who are you to judge which ones are impossible to rehabilitate? Who made you judge and executioner?"

Stromsburg's words clawed at Tomyn's heart and at mine. While Tomyn explained his plan, I was actually considering it. My mind quickly drew plans of how to smuggle out criminals from their cells, disguising them as rebels without compromising the involuntary charade. I was already calculating the time it would take, the risk, and the effort. It was a great plan. I didn't stop to think about the morality of it all.

That was what made me ashamed. How could I have even considered it? I was willing to forget all that I stood for in an instant. I was reminded of when I hoped that somebody else would open the allegedly dangerous package instead of Cid back when Guardian first 'showed me the way.' I was so desperate that I was ready to choose between two evils with a favorable outcome.

I found my self doing it again with Tomyn's plan. Stromsburg was looking at me now. Looking for a sign on my face whether I liked the idea or not. I knew that she would oppose it. I relieved her of the concern.

"No, I won't do it," I said simply. I could not tell them my reasoning behind it. I rejected the idea not because my moral compass reasserted itself. I rejected it because my cold logic did.

The plan would not have worked at all. Whoever falsified the reports knew that there weren't any rebel in the village. If a couple of rebels did happen to show up, then they would be extremely suspicious about it. Though, it would be enough to convince the Military, my true enemy would not be so easily fooled. They would only try again.

That was my reasoning. Principles and morality had nothing to do with it. I played judge and executioner for my own selfish sake. I had just discovered my own capacity for evil. Perhaps, the only consolation I could extract from it was that the consideration was brought out by necessity and desperation.

I shook my head to ward off the thoughts. It was not helping me at all. I was in the front, taking point. Looking behind me, I saw Jasom taking the rear, making sure that our two temporary allies wouldn't try anything funny. The two of them were talking, whispering. Both their faces looked haggard. Stromsburg whispered harsh words to Tomyn from time to time. Looking away into the distance, she would suppress the sobs wanting to escape. She never gave her tears the chance to fall. She would wipe them with the back of her hand with a sniff.

Tomyn was unusually silent after his enthusiasm was promptly shot down. I didn't feel sorry for him. There was no excuse for his actions. It was time to speak with him alone.

"Jasom, Stromsburg," I called out. "Take point!"


	23. Orphans

**Orphans**

Jasom kicked and his chocobo sped up a bit to take his position. I slowed down to fall back. Stromsburg looked at me quizzically, almost offended by my order. "Please," I said kindly, "I need to speak to your son."

"What about?"

"It's private."

"No," Stromsburg refused, furrowing her brows.

"Remember my promise, Mrs. Stromsburg?"

"I remember Military promises all too well. You think that--"

"Matron," Tomyn interrupted quietly with pleading eyes. "It'll be all right. _I_ promise."

Stromsburg hesitated, looking at him sadly and lovingly. She shot one sharp look at me before she picked up her pace to catch up with Jasom who was waiting for her. When I was sure that the two in front were outside hearing range, I spoke.

"There was no excuse for what you did," I started. His face quickly donned a look of contempt.

"I don't need you to tell me--" he started to say.

"Don't make me regret my decision to give you a second chance!" I snapped. Jasom and Stromsburg both glanced back towards us. Stromsburg tugged on her chocobo's reins to slow it down but Jasom quickly grabbed it from her hands to bid the chocobo to stay on course. Jasom shook his head at Stromsburg deliberately. Stromsburg bit her lip and sighed in submission. "I am a general of the army, and you will treat me as such," I added fiercely. His expression did not change, though he was more careful with his responses.

"I do not appreciate being shot at and attacked," I said quietly again. "I know that the bolt was not intended for me, but you have no idea how much more you've made my investigation difficult." I sighed for effect. "But all of that is water under the bridge," I continued more calmly. He gave me a quick glance and looked away almost immediately. 

"So, you're a Marigold child, huh?" I asked with a completely different tone to let him know that I meant what I said.

"Yes," he answered without turning his head.

"Tell me about Branford."

"Who?"

"Tina. I _know_ you knew her. She mentioned you in her diary."

"Tina was one of us," he said simply.

"I see. So she was a rebel sympathizer?"

"No!" he said immediately. "No, she was not!"

"Good. Because if you say that she is then my investigation has been a complete waste of my time," I agreed. I wanted to sound agreeable to him if only to get him to talk. "Furthermore, I believe that you acted alone in the attempted assassination." He didn't say anything. He hid his face from me by looking into the distance. "Why did you do it?"

"The cause."

"What cause?"

He heaved a deep sigh before he began. "People aren't as blind as the Empire would want to believe. Your noble mission of 'global accord' is just an excuse to expand your power, riches, and territory."

"You speak as if you aren't Vectorian."

"I am neither a rebel nor a Vectorian. I'm an orphan. We, who have been abandoned or cheated by life when we were still too innocent to understand, have learned to think for ourselves and see. Every time Vector steps onto other foreign lands, _we_ grow in numbers. 'Global accord?' Name a dispute in Terrae where Vector isn't involved in. Vector is the one muddling the waters--policing nations that do not need policing, disrupting existing trades to be 'governed' by our own treasury. We're the ones disturbi--"

"Don't give me that crap! You say that you see what's wrong with Vector. How do your actions justify _your_ cause?"

"We have to start somewhere," he replied thoughtlessly.

"The first explosion killed workers with families. Quite possibly with children who are 'too innocent to understand.' You are con--"

"We had nothing to do with the recent troubles."

"You admitted to supplying the rebels resources--" I pressed.

"We had nothing to do with the recent troubles! Which part of that did you not understand?!"

"What I do not understand is this: if you had nothing to do with the attacks, then what was the money for?"

Tomyn was silent. It didn't look like he was going to answer it at all. I let it go. 

The choc I was riding rustled its feathers and cawed once. The three other chocs cawed back. They sensed the presence of wild chocs grazing up ahead. The wild chocs raised their heads and stared at us intently, unmoving. Our chocs cawed again. The wild chocs reacted this time by speeding away to the South, out of our way. The caws were almost like a warning sign to the wild. Our gaze followed the flock as a trail of dust tailed them.

And then, Tomyn spoke. "I went on a trip to the North. The Matron hooked me up with an old friend of hers who is a captain of a trade ship from Nikeah. She figured that I would take a liking to a merchant's job to support my self. After all, Tina chose to be a soldier, Lucky chose to be doctor, Barb and Ricky became teachers. They've moved on. I needed something to do for a living.

"The captain was okay. He taught me a lot. In fact, he taught me more than I needed to know," Tomyn said with a chuckle. "The man had a knack for 'acquiring' needed merchandise for his buyers."

"He was a thief?"

"No. Not a thief. He... made shady deals but nothing criminal," he explained. "He was a middle man for many things, if you take my meaning."

I nodded vaguely. Like how you were a middle man for Marrow and Verde?"

"Exactly," he said softly, hoping to avoid being overheard by Stromsburg. "He had lots of contacts, see? And he needed help with the... uh... transactions.

"One night, he ordered me to deliver a wagon full of supplies to... 'this one place.' It was in the middle of nowhere miles away from the nearest town. I thought I had gotten myself lost."

I asked, "You mean the captain wasn't with you?"

"No, he wasn't. He wasn't feeling very well so he had asked me to do the job for him that day. He instructed me to go to that certain location and wait till sundown. And then he told me not to look into the crates that I was carrying with me.

"I've always been too curious for my own sake. With instructions like that and boredom on my side, I just had to take a peek. I took a crowbar and opened the top crate." He paused for effect. "They contained dried and preserved food, much to my disappointment.

"Something pricked me on the neck. I pulled it out and saw that it was a dart before I blacked out."

"I woke up in... uh... this other place. I was being held captive by what I thought at first to be bandits. I was scared to death. I was in a hole covered with a metal grate kept alive by food scraps that they threw down at me. My hands and feet were bound by metal shackles. None of them spoke to me though I've asked them many times why I was being held prisoner and what they had intended for me. They didn't seem to want me dead. It felt like I was a prisoner serving time."

"Where is this place?" I asked.

"I cannot tell you that."

"How did you escape?"

"One day, my captors brought in another prisoner. He was thrown into the same hole as mine. I heard the guards say that he was caught trespassing. We talked. I asked him where we were and he told me. I asked him what he was doing in that place, and he admitted to being a robber. He wanted to rob the place, but he got caught. And then, I told him my story. He didn't care much about mine. He was busy picking his shackles with a chicken bone he had found on the filthy ground.

"The man knew what he was doing. We were out of our shackles within the hour. And then, he offered to split the bounty with him if I promised to help him rob the place. I told him that I just wanted to get out of the place. He agreed. I gave him a boost and picked the lock on the grate. He climbed out and pulled me out of the hole."

"The guards?"

"There weren't any around. I guess they didn't think that we'd escape. I began to get a better look at the place. We were underground. I saw tunnels lit by torches and oil lamps. There were rooms and twisting corridors with ceilings that often forced us to get down on our knees and crawl through. My new friend seemed to know his way around.

"After a few minutes of wandering, we came upon this big underground chamber full of people. People in ragged clothes. Men, women, and children. Wretches and outcasts. Sick and crippled. They paid us no attention. They thought that we were one of them. They went about their business, sleeping on dirty mats laid on the floor. Some huddled together in small groups, eating what looked like roasted rats, lizards, snakes and who-knows-what-else. It was a terrible sight.

"The thief disappeared into the crowd. I wandered around looking for him or an exit. I stumbled into the corner of the chamber where there were a lot of sick children, lying in cots. I felt pity for them instantly. They were cold, hungry, dying and alone. I started asking the sick children where their parents were. I learned then that they were all orphans.

"An old man reprimanded me for disturbing their peace. He made it sound like they were already dead. I asked the man who was caring for them. He promptly told me that they were just there to die. That there was nothing else that they could do. They had nothing to ease their pains. Nothing to cure their maladies. Absolutely nothing.

"The thief appeared suddenly. He grabbed me by the arm and led the way out. We emerged out of a secret opening on the side of a mountain. It was then that I noticed him carrying a small chest. Under the full moon he offered to split the spoils with him. I felt sick to my stomach. The man had robbed what little the wretches had in their coffers! Could you believe that?"

"What did you do?" I asked, eager to hear more.

"We walked a couple of miles away and hid somewhere safe. Then, I told him to start counting while I searched for food. I knew he was a thief, and had a feeling that he'd split the second I lost sight of him. But I didn't care. Because right then and there, I was torn. My plan was to look for a weapon, like a rock or a dead branch to hit his head with. I didn't care then if it would've killed him or not. Those children were dying and greedy people couldn't care any less.

"Well, I found my rock!" he said, his voice rising. Stromsburg and Jasom glanced back at us. "I walked back to where I left him. A small part of me wished that he'd run away. To my surprise he was still there--counting. A thief intent upon keeping his promise. Weird, huh? But no matter. Those coins belonged to the poor wretches. Those coins belonged to the children! The orphans! My people!"

"Tomyn?" Stromsburg called from in front with worry in her voice.

Tomyn ignored her. He continued to speak with vehement pride in his voice. "Why did Miss Jennina volunteer to help us? It's because she's one of us! Do you understand, General? We orphans look after one another... because there is nobody else out there. It's a bond forged strongly between strangers who have nothing else in common than the fact that injustice had cheated them out of normal and happy lives. We are the people who live in-between worlds. We are the victims. We are the oppressed. We are the casualties. I take pride in what I have become, and hope to prevent the others to share my fate."

He looked away from me and stared forward. Stromsburg met his eyes. His face instantly calmed. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he shook his head slowly. "I never meant to hurt one of my own," he whispered so that only I could hear him.

"Eyes forward!" Jasom urged Stromsburg. She did after a moment's hesitation.

"And so you killed him?" I asked softly.

"What would you have done?" he asked me grudgingly.

I thought about it carefully. "I don't know," I answered. "If you're not strong enough, you should bow down before the storm. Allow your mind to seek the answers your heart failed to. You live longer that way," I said indifferently. I was testing.

Tomyn shot me a sudden, cold look.

"I'm sorry," he muttered after a few seconds.

"For what?"

"For not aiming at you instead."

Tomyn's choc shrieked as its rider fell off its saddle. Stromsburg and Jasom spun around in time to see me getting off my chocobo, drawing my sword with my left hand. Tomyn was rubbing his right cheek where I had struck him.

"No!" Stromsburg cried as she hurriedly got off her ride. In her panicked haste, the stirrups get entangled around her foot. She fell to the side, taking the chocobo down with her.

"Hold her back, Jasom! That's an order."

Jasom dismounted his choc and rushed towards Stromsburg who was already struggling back to her feet. He tackled her down again.

"Mercy! Please! Not my son!" Stromsburg cried as she wrestled with Jasom. She was a strong woman. Jasom had a hard time subduing her. He finally pinned her to the ground after much exertion. "Tomyn!"

I approached Tomyn with my sword. He took a handful of sand and threw it at my face. I saw it coming and turned away just in time. He lunged at me. My foot sent him back down on the ground, coughing.

"Mercy!"

Tomyn was on his knees right in front of me, clutching at his belly. My sword hovered dangerously above him.

"Look at me!" I commanded. "I said look at me!"

Tomyn raised his head. His eyes gave me the coldest look he could muster while the rest of his face contorted to an ugly form of contempt.

"I wish you could see yourself now. I doubt that you would even recognize the monster that you've become. Do you want to take another shot at me? Here!" I dropped my sword in front of him. "Butcher me in front of your mother! Crack my head open like you did to that thief! Or deprive me of breath by slitting my throat. No tricks. I won't fight back."

Tomyn took the sword by its hilt slowly. His breath became faster. His face was turning red. I could see it in his eyes. He was fighting his demon. The good in him urged him to hold back. His demon stood up from the ground and faced me, my sword in his hand, while Tomyn continued to wrestle with it from within.

"Tomyn!" Stromsburg screamed.

Tomyn wanted to come to her aid. Somehow, his demon would not submit to the cries. It knew that the sight of her mother would drive away the burning hatred in his heart. I could only imagine him trying to recall the images of the sick children flashing before him to fuel his rage. It was a known tactic for brainwashing: implant a strong image into the mind of the subject that invokes a primal emotion directed to a programmed enemy.

"Am I not your enemy? Tomorrow, a village may be wiped out off the face of the planet by my order. Isn't that enough reason to kill me? Then why do you hesitate? Why are you torn? Your options are simple enough. Or are they?

"What happens afterwards? You kill me now, and then those lives stand no chance at survival. _I _am their only way out. Not _you_!"

Tomyn's hands started to tremble. His grip on the sword did not loosen despite the fact. He was still fighting.

"Why are you still frozen?! Why do you cradle this hate that blinds you? Do you not see the obvious answer? Do you not see what it does to you? Do you not hear your mother's voice any longer?"

"No!" he shrieked. He broke down in sobs, dropping my sword and clutching at his hair. He dropped back to his knees and blubbered, "I'm... not t-the m-monster... t-t-that you think... I am!"

"Please let go of me!" Stromsburg pleaded with Jasom. Jasom held fast. "Tomyn!"

"I'm n-not a c-c-criminal!"

"The thief--" I started but he cut me off immediately.

"I didn't k-kill him!" Tomyn blurted out.

"Of course, not! He recruited you, didn't he? He revealed himself to you. He was testing you. You felt that something was wrong. He could've left you in that hole. He could've left you in that sick chamber. He could've killed you after getting out of that place. He could've run away with the money when he had the chance. But he waited for you to come back to him."

Tomyn looked at me in astonishment. My theory was right on the dot.

"How did you...?"

"And you gave them the money because you were thinking about the children. '_Your _people.' I'm sorry to say this to you, Tomyn, but you've been brainwashed," I said loud enough for Stromsburg to hear.

"No..." he denied. "Not true!"

"You were acting on mental images that they fed you, subconsciously convincing yourself that you were only doing the right thing. Oh, don't feel bad! Vector isn't any better at it.

"But the children... they were sick! They were dying!"

"It's a sad world, Tomyn. Death happens to everybody. Though your intentions were noble, you were awfully misguided."

"Misguided? How could you say that? How--"

"When you returned from your 'trip,' did you tell your mother what happened?"

Tomyn didn't speak. He just looked at her sadly.

"I didn't think so."

"You are wrong about them," he answered resolutely. "They are not murderers. So what if they showed me their side of the story? So what if they shared their sufferings with me? I've had my share here! I've seen the lies and promises of the emperor to his very own people! _My people!_"

"There is hope for you yet, Tomyn. And for the rest of us. Pick up my sword and run back to your... _allies_."

"What?! You can't do that!" Stromsburg interjected.

I motioned for Jasom to let her go. He did so promptly. "Do you disagree, Mrs. Stromsburg? Do you not feel that your son is a danger to his self? Did you not ask him to run away earlier?"

Stromsburg was speechless for a moment. Jasom helped her get back up on her feet.

"My son needs help," she pleaded. "You said so yourself. He's been brainwashed. He's been deceived."

"True. But he's also made himself an enemy of Vector. Your son is no longer safe in Vector. He left his prints on an incriminating weapon from the North."

"But... you can't just let him go now!"

"I don't suppose the two of you can see the great irony of your request. Don't forget that I am the one assigned by the New Military Council to seek out rebels and sympathizers alike and neutralize them! Consider yourself fortunate that I'm even giving you this chance," I reminded. "You have ten minutes to say your goodbyes."

* * *

Stromsburg and Tomyn spoke alone for thirty minutes. Jasom and I waited patiently for the two to finish.

"Brainwashed?" he asked.

"That's my theory," I answered modestly.

"Why send him back?"

"It's only logical. He's safer there than in Vector. I am forced to give my findings about the crossbow to the Council. If the Military gets a hold of him, the Marrow case would then be a Military case."

"And that's bad?"

"Very. It might make somebody back in Vector suspicious of our actions. We have been careful to cover our tracks. I don't want that to go to waste."

"You do know that Jasom is our first real lead to the rebels," he noted.

"You do remember that the rebels have not yet done real crimes against us," I retorted.

He nodded and looked back towards the two. We saw both Marigolds hug each other for a long time. Their goodbyes were at an end. Tomyn took my weapon and rode his chocobo to the south. Stromsburg rejoined us a few seconds later, avoiding our eyes.

For a long moment, nobody said anything. The sun had already set. In the distance, up ahead, we saw curious lights of different colors. The lanterns had been lit. The village was near.

"Thank you, Celes," Stromsburg said, suddenly.

"I do what I can," I answered softly.

"If this village does not heed our warning, what then?" she asked.

I thought glumly and answered, "I'll think of something. I promise."


	24. Village Secret

**Village Secret**

We stood at the center of the village by a well in front of the town hall, slightly awed by the display of colorful lanterns on every doorstep and street corners. Even the surrounding trees held hanging light sources to hold back the immediate shadows. The lanterns came not only in different colors but shapes and materials, as well. The bigger and brighter lanterns were often made of metal meshes and stained glass. The light was fueled by oil like regular lamps. The smaller ones were made of bamboo meshes covered with colored paper. They burned with small candles inside that only usually last till the morning. Careful design and placement of the candles prevented unwanted fires.

The shapes depended on how well the meshes were put together. Most meshes took the form of many-pointed stars, spheres, and crescent moons. Daring ones took the form of animals such as birds, butterflies, and lions. A few lanterns were grouped in clusters to form a bigger design such as the miniature chocobo caravan and the rainbow snake that was suspended above the well like a giant halo. A special cluster composed the red dragon that illuminated the village sign that proudly declared their commonwealth concordance with their patron nation: 'Welcome to Maranda.' 

There were few people out and about. Most were tending to their farm beasts, tethering them in their stables and feeding them. Farmers threw their farming tools on a wagon to be cleaned for the next day. A smithy inspected them quickly, looking for certain ones that needed fixing. The village baker poured a bucket of water onto the earthen kiln, sending a pillar of steam into the air with sizzling and sputtering sound. Women chased their children who refused to accept the sunset.

The streets weren't paved. Chocobos kicked the dust as they grew restless in the middle of the busy streets. I happened to notice a good amount of spilled wheat kernels on the ground. I guessed that they fell from bountiful grain wagons before the trade. A homeless wretch would find enough to eat just by gathering the fallen grain.

Around the village were the vast fields of grain, almost ready for harvest. The eastern part had already been partially reaped. The wheat field glowed golden even at night due to big spherical lanterns atop taller posts. The posts and lanterns were scattered throughout like scarecrows. They resembled small orbs of sun.

As the others around me were absorbed in the fascinating display, I turned to the town hall. The design was quite curious. Instead of steps leading up to the front door, it was a ramp. The doors themselves were double doors that were each wider than they were tall. If one were to open them fully, the villagers could be inside within seconds.

As I studied the town hall, an armed man took notice and approached us, walking down the ramp as he greeted.

"Trades are closed, strangers," he said. "Best you find your lodging soon. Curfew is in an hour."

"We need to speak to the representative of this village," Jasom said.

"Where are you from, strangers?" the man asked.

I answered this one, "We bring ill news from Vector. Please... we wish to speak to your Village Speaker.

"Ill news? What is this ill news you speak of?" he asked dubiously.

"Unless you are the Village Speaker, you shall not hear of it," I said firmly.

"We are Maranda, stranger. We no longer have a Village Speaker."

"Then take us to your mayor," I replied, recalling the politics of Maranda. "The ill news we bring concerns this village."

"The mayor sleeps--"

"Then, come morning he shall never wake!"

"Who are you to make threats?! Speak, dogs!" the guard said, infuriated.

"The threat comes from Vector. Tomorrow they shall declare war."

* * *

The mayor was the village elder of fifty-four. A retired farmer, strong, and wise. He listened to our story in his office with his two sons by his sides. Stromsburg was the one who gave them the news. She revealed herself to be a sympathizer while Jasom and I pretended to be her trusted servants. I had instructed Stromsburg of what to say.

Their reaction to the warning we gave them were as I expected. They were dubious. We could not have done anything different to make it better.

"You have no proof of this?" the first son of the mayor asked, as the mayor himself was silent.

"I am her spy," I interjected. "I was in the Council Chamber when the evidence against this village was submitted. The Council approved of the attack."

"Evidence against this village? What evidence? We harbor no rebels!"

Stromsburg continued her lead, "It doesn't matter if you do not. If Vector thinks that you are harboring spies, then you are. The attack will commence."

"This is preposterous!" the second son exclaimed. "We did nothing wrong! Why should we trust you?"

"Have you heard of the Terra Episode?" Stromsburg asked.

"We had nothing to do wi--"

"We know that!" Stromsburg interrupted. "But the Military have been in a state of panic and confusion for weeks. Now, they are looking for payback. Your village has been nominated as the scapegoat--"

"But why?" the first son asked again. The mayor was still silent. His face betrayed nothing.

"Because your village is of no consequence to them. It is also the closest to Vector," Stromsburg answered with disgust. She wished she weren't a Vector citizen.

"We've had peaceful relations with Vector for years," the mayor spoke calmly. "This is not like them at all."

"Vector is afraid," I began. "Vector is angry. They are acting on these misguided emotions. Hence, they are beyond reason. It is absolutely futile for us to try to understand their way of thinking. Nothing is going to change it. Not a village. Not a town. Not a nation."

"But what would you have us do?"

"Flee," I answered. This made the two sons extremely uneasy. "And do it now! Lead your people to Maranda mainland where they can be protected, at least!" I yelled over their rising angry voices.

The sons and even the guards around us all shook their heads and cursed.

"Quiet!" the mayor shouted. Silence followed after a few seconds. Satisfied, he continued, "If you are telling the truth, then we are going to meet their attack force with empty hands high up in the air."

"It's not going to--" Stromsburg began but she was cut short by the mayor who insisted on finishing his thought.

"Just as we think it would be foolish for us to resist their force, abandoning this village is not an option! We simply cannot take the words of three strangers who happen by. If the Imperial soldiers do come tomorrow, we will show them that we have nothing to hide."

"They come for revenge--not justice!" Jasom argued. "Don't assume that they would act like civilized people."

"If we leave this village as you suggest we do, we leave behind our livelihood. Our concordance with Maranda rests in our allegiance. To abandon this village is to abandon our allegiance with them," the mayor explained, still calmly.

"Your lives are in danger! Maranda will see that!" Stromsburg contended.

"We do not see this danger. How do we know that you are not con artists trying to trick us into leaving our most valued possessions? The Week of the Yield is upon us. We are a critical source of trade. You are lucky that I have not yet ordered my men to detain the lot of you."

I could see that Stromsburg and Jasom were getting frustrated. I could also see that the guards were itching to throw us out of the mayor's house, waiting only for a signal. I could see that the mayor would never take our words of warning seriously. He couldn't and it was unfortunately understandable.

I touched Jasom and Stromsburg's shoulders, signaling them to cease their attempts.

"A wise decision, sir!" I said, bowing. "We only come as friends to give you this warning. Our job is done. We shall now depart."

The guards led us outside and slammed the door behind us.

* * *

"Well that was a waste of our time," Jasom muttered.

"I don't think we tried hard enough," Stromsburg added.

"It wasn't a waste of our time, and there is absolutely nothing we can say to them tonight that would completely convince them," I said as I led the way towards the well where we had our chocobos tethered.

Only peacekeepers walked the streets now, armed and wary of our presence. Jasom and Stromsburg caught another glimpse of the fields.

"I have a mind to set the fields on fire tonight just to scare them away," he said softly in a whisper.

Stromsburg stopped on her tracks and thought about the idea. "That's not such a bad idea," she commented.

"That will not make them leave. They will stay and fight the fire. Farming had been their livelihood for generations. I'm sure they would succeed in beating the fire. And even if the fire consumes all of their crops, it's not reason enough for them to leave," I said after a quick thought.

"Maybe. But maybe we can do something else to scare them away," Stromsburg suggested.

"Like what?" I asked.

Both were silent for a long moment, thinking. Jasom frowned and sighed. "I wish I had a few sticks of those dynamites right about now. We could make it look like the attack was already happening."

"Agreed. But I'm beginning to think that running away isn't the best course of action," I replied.

"What do you mean?"

"The Empire needs to see something done. If I lead the march tomorrow to a ghost town, we're likely to get new orders from the Council to move on to the next village."

"Great!" Stromsburg exclaimed in exasperation. "So now what?"

I resumed my walk and they followed. "I don't know," I said honestly. I was lost. The mayor's pacifistic plan gave me a bit of comfort when he suggested it. Perhaps I could work on that. _ But how?_

When we arrived at the well in front of the town hall, I noticed that our chocobos have been busy pecking at the ground, eating fat wheat kernels. I let my mind wander off our primary concern to sate my curiosity. Looking at the ground around us, I noticed that there was a greater concentration of spilled grain around the well than anywhere else. The thought made me look around the village again. At night time, however, only certain spots were illuminated by the lanterns. The brightest one came from the village sign.

"Welcome to Maranda," I read out loud. Jasom and Stromsburg turned their eyes towards the sign and admired the red dragon lantern cluster.

Reading the sign sparked a memory in my head. I saw myself back in Vector, sitting on the captain's chair at the Intel headquarters. I saw myself picking up the curious novelty item with a sign that said the same words. Difference was that the real sign were on erected posts rather than being painted on a miniature--

My eyes darted from one direction to the other. I scanned my surroundings with one complete turn. My companions noticed my sudden alert. To them, it looked like I was in search of an enemy lurking in the shadows. It made them uneasy.

"What's wrong?" Jasom asked in a whisper, looking around him, too.

Just to be sure, I scanned the village again with one more full turn. "This village..."

"What?" Stromsburg asked, confused.

"This village is wrong," I answered. "Look around you carefully and tell me what's missing!"

Stromsburg did as they were told, intrigued.

"I see nothing but houses and fields."

"Exactly! Look at how vast the fields are. They're harvesting all of it this week."

"So?" Stromsburg asked again with a frown, wondering why we were wasting our time with something seemingly trivial.

"So...where are they storing them?"

This made them look around, one more time. Finally, Jasom noted, "There's not a granary in sight!"

Stromsburg agreed. She thought it odd and tried to find an explanation for it. "Maybe they don't store it here. Maybe they transport it as soon as they reap."

"Maybe. Or maybe we just can't see where they store their grain," I hypothesized.

"Excuse me but how is this important?" she said impatiently.

I didn't want to answer that question for I wasn't sure myself. "It's not," I said. "Just an observation." The peacekeepers watched us intently, waiting for us to leave their village. "Let's go."

"But what about the village?" Stromsburg asked.

"There's nothing we can do here," I replied glumly. Jasom looked dejected.

"We've come all this way for nothing," she said, sounding defeated.

"It wasn't a complete waste of time. Though they did not believe us, they will half-expect the attack tomorrow. They should, at least, prepare for the worst. Also, now I know what their plan is. They will not fight back. Maybe I can work something out back in Vector," I explained. The both of them didn't look too positive. "Jasom, please check the saddles on our chocs again."

Jasom acted quickly but silently. I knew that his mind was still racing to come up with something that we could do in the village. I knew Stromsburg was, too. I, on the other hand, found myself astonished by my discovery about the village. I couldn't shake off the growing curiosity within me.

_Why is this important? I'm obsessing!_ I thought as I walked around the well, looking around for granaries. _ They have to store it somewhere._

The wind blew gently from the north, rustling the trees and moving the lanterns around us. I thought I had heard a voice whispering to me. My first reaction was to tap the earpiece that I was not wearing, thinking that Guardian was trying to contact me. It could not have been it. We were too far away from Vector.

I heard a whisper again though I did not understand it. It seemed to come from the blowing wind. The whisper was accompanied by a sense of familiarity. I could not immediately recall how this was so. 

I felt dizzy all of a sudden. I staggered back towards the well, leaned on the pole that held a section of the rainbow snake up above it. The soft whispers continued, still incoherent. My eyes blurred, though they did not dim.

"General?" Jasom asked softly when he noticed me.

I couldn't respond to his concerned call. I was gasping for breath as the world continued to spin around me. Lightning flashed around me--no thunder.

_It's happening again!_

"Celes!"

I felt myself falling. I felt a brief moment of impact before the cold enveloped me. I couldn't breathe. I was still awake, but I had no control of my body. I knew where I was.

I was back in the swirling realm.


	25. The Return of the Three

**The Return of the Three**

Celes leaned on the well. It looked as if she was trying to see what was at the bottom with what little light she had. Stromsburg had just taken the saddle off her chocobo and was re-adjusting the straps and stirrups. Jasom was having a hard time unbuckling his as some of the feathers of his chocobo got painfully stuck in it. The chocobo made irritated grunting noise. Jasom swore under his breath as he struggled with the infernal device that wouldn't come loose. 

Stromsburg said, "Need help?"

Jasom acknowledged with a frustrated look, and when he glanced back at her, he caught sight of Celes who was dangerously leaning over the mouth of the well.

"Celes!" he called out.

Stromsburg spun around just in time to see the well swallow Celes whole. "Gods!"

Both heard a splash coming from the bottom of the well.

"Help! Somebody help!" Stromsburg shouted. Two peacekeepers heard her shouts and rushed to the scene.

Jasom leaned over and squinted into the jet black darkness of the well. "Celes!" he called out again, his voice reverberating around the cylindrical chasm. 

The two village peacekeepers arrived, shining their lamps over the well. They saw the shimmering bottom of the well that went as deep as fifty feet. There were no signs of the general.

"Find a rope!" Jasom barked. "I'm going down there."

The peacekeepers looked at each other uneasily. "We have none," answered the first.

"What do you mean you have none? Find one!"

"We have no rope," the second peacekeeper insisted sternly.

"Then how in Terrae do you draw water from the well with a bucket?" Stromsburg asked.

"Buckets? We don't do that anymore. We have pumps all over the village. Nobody uses this well anymore except for--" the first peacekeeper started to say but stopped before he finished. "Nobody uses this well anymore," he asserted. 

"Our friend is down there and drowning! Just go and--Oh, for crying out loud, I'll do it myself!"

Jasom ran towards the nearest tool shed he could find. When he found out that it was locked, he started kicking the door open.

"Hey! You can't do that!" warned the first peacekeeper as he ran towards him. The peacekeeper tackled him and pinned him on the ground with the help of his companion.

"What are you doing?!" Jasom yelled. "I'm just trying to get my friend out of there!"

Stromsburg came to his rescue. She kicked the nearest peacekeeper on the back with her heel. The peacekeeper dropped to the ground, groaning in pain. Jasom pushed back against the remaining peacekeeper who was momentarily distracted. He followed with a punch to the temple. The last peacekeeper was strong, however. He did not fall as easily. Fortunately, Stromsburg was also there with Jasom.

Stromsburg wrapped her right arm around the peacekeeper's neck from behind and started squeezing. She had been trained with many methods of subduing criminals without actually killing them. This was one of her most effective methods. 

The peacekeeper gasped for breath as he tried in vain to reach back free himself. The dark fell on everything like curtains. He started seeing stars. Slowly, the peacekeeper fell on the ground and stayed there. Stromsburg released him and felt for his pulse. He would live.

Jasom's attention was back on the locked shed. He knew that there was nothing he could do to break the lock, but he knew that the door itself was weaker. He started kicking the door in. The wood holding the hinges cracked loudly.

Another kick split the supporting lumber. They opened the wrecked door and started rummaging in the pile of shovels, hoes, pitchforks and other farming implements. There was no rope.

"Don't move!" barked another peacekeeper from behind.

Jasom and Stromsburg faced him and saw that the villager was pointing a loaded crossbow at them. Three more peacekeepers arrived with their weapons drawn. They were surrounded.

"Please! We're not trying to make trouble. We just want to save our friend!"

Lights came on from nearby houses. Farmers opened up their windows and peered out in curiosity.

"What's going on here?!" the mayor's first son asked, enraged, as he himself arrived at the commotion.

"We saw them stealing our tools. And look what they did to Farmer Teeler's sons!" the peacekeeper reported.

Everybody looked at the two subdued peacekeepers. The farmers in the houses were now intrigued. They opened their doors and went out to join the commotion. Half of the village surrounded Jasom and Stromsburg.

"Our friend has fallen in your well. We were just trying to look for a rope! Please help us. There might still be time to save her," Jasom pleaded again.

The mayor's son looked at the well and frowned. The villagers glanced at each other nervously.

"There is nothing that you can do to your friend. It is too late."

"What?!" he exclaimed, dumbfounded.

"There is a river that runs under this very village. The water is quite... violent. We've lost a few of our own this way," the mayor's son explained.

"But... there has to be something that you can do!"

"We won't even risk it. It is far too dangerous."

"I'll go," Jasom volunteered.

"No!" thee mayor's son answered adamantly. "You have broken our law and attacked two of our own. I ought to order my men to detain you. But seeing as how you've lost a friend, I shall be more forgiving.

"I order you to leave our village. Know that we grieve for your loss. But if you ever return here, our peacekeepers will shoot you on sight.

"Take them away!"

Jasom attacked the peacekeeper closest to him, but he was hopelessly outnumbered. They grabbed him by the arms and legs and carried him bodily off the ground. He kicked and struggled in vain, cursing.

"We've come as friends to warn you about the Empire attack tomorrow! And this is how you treat us?!" 

The villagers who heard him looked at each other uneasily. They started to whisper among themselves.

Unlike Jasom, Stromsburg did not struggle. Two peacekeepers held her by her shoulders and led the way out of the village. She noticed at how anxious the villagers have become.

"That's right, people! The Empire will attack tomorrow! We've come to warn you, but your mayor would not listen!" she shouted.

"Silence, woman!" the mayor's son commanded. "Your pardon hangs in the balance."

"It's true!" Jasom shouted again. "Tomorrow at sundown, the Empire will mmph--!" The peacekeepers forced his mouth shut.

"You are all in danger!" Stromsburg continued, but didn't take long till somebody gagged her mouth, too.

"What are you folks doing outside your houses? Curfew is in effect. I'll have the lot of you fined if you do not get back in your houses this instant!" the mayor's son threatened.

The villagers reluctantly obeyed, their minds heavy on the dire news.

"The strangers lie! The Empire is not at war with us. Their claims are preposterous!" he explained further with a nervous laugh.

* * *

The peacekeepers dragged Jasom and Stromsburg out of the village. Another peacekeeper offered them their saddled chocobos. Jasom was in tears.

"What we tell you is the truth!" he tried to explain, one last time. "Don't let our friend die in vain. Leave the village and save yourselves! At least, save the children!"

The peacekeepers were quiet. Their faces were solemn. The leader stepped forward. "Leave," he said simply, his eyes filled with pity.

Jasom looked at all of them in disgust. Suddenly, he had this feeling that they all deserved to die for letting his friend die in the well. For not even lifting a finger to try and rescue her. For stopping his lone attempt to save her.

"Come sunset tomorrow, _I_ will be the one looking down on the lot of you."

Jasom and Stromsburg took their chocobos and rode into the night.

* * *

For two hours, Jasom and Stromsburg wept. Neither talked to each other. The trip seemed to have ended in a tragedy. Jasom had lost a friend. Stromsburg had lost a son. It was only when one of them realized that there was no way for them to return to Vector that they started to ask each other for a plan.

Jasom and Stromsburg were able to leave Vector because they were invisible. That was no longer true. The second they attempt to cross the belt, the Spitfire patrol in the air would open fire on them. Or perhaps, the Magitek Armors stationed on the ground would bombard them with explosive bolts from a mile away.

They stopped on the road and rested. They didn't want to move. They didn't really want to think of a plan. They had been doing that since yesterday morning and they hadn't had any decent sleep or rest.

Jasom tethered the chocobos to a tree in the middle of a grassy field. Stromsburg sat down and leaned against the trunk of the tree to rest. Jasom, on the other hand, laid down on grass, his back, flat on the ground. He stared into the nothingness of the sky and thought.

"You know," he began sounding as casual as he could, "The Empire just lost another general." Jasom laughed. Not because he thought it was funny, but that it was ironic. "Without a general to test, maybe they wouldn't attack the village tomorrow at all!"

Stromsburg didn't say a word of response.

"Maybe Celes wouldn't have died in vain at all," he stated, trying his hardest to sound positive. "But what a sacrifice!"

"What a sacrifice," Stromsburg repeated, her voice soft and thoughtful. "Do you suppose she did it on purpose?"

The thought hadn't really occurred to Jasom. The notion was inconceivably desperate. 

_And yet... why not?_ Jasom thought. "She just let herself fall in, didn't she?"

Stromsburg had a sudden look of sorrow in her face. "I didn't know her well enough. But if that is true, she's now an unsung hero, if I've ever seen one."

"Celes was a very rational person. If there was any doubt that her actions would not accomplish anything, then she wouldn't have done so on purpose. I know that much," Jasom replied.

The two fell silent again, still staring up into the sky. There was nothing left on the horizon to look at. The night had conquered that. The haze that prevented the stars from showing cleared slowly starting from the east. Familiar constellations began to show themselves. Jasom noted Bismark the Navigator, to the north, followed by its tamer, Siren of Sea Songs. To the south were the warlords, Bludvick, Skythe, and Magysze--collectively known as the Crusaders of the mythological War of the Magi. To the west was the great, fanged wolf Fenris, whose constellation was only complete if a red full moon situated itself in his mouth. A full moon in its mouth was uncommon enough, let alone a red full moon which would be a physical impossibility for the moon was silver. 

Terrato was to the east--an exiled serpent of Terrae. According to legends, it was one of the planet guardians who have failed in its task. As punishment, the great snake was uprooted from its home and forced to stay in the sky where it remained powerless to do anything but watch the ground in longing. The exact crime varied from preventing the assassination of a great king to the betrayal of one of the Goddesses of Magic. A third tale told of Terrato stealing away the Sword of the Ender, Ragnarok, that now hovered precariously above its head.

Jasom enjoyed those stories when he was just a kid. They were written in books and in the night sky. Directly above them was the greatest of all constellations--Alexander. The Knight. The Armor. The Tower.

Borrowing stars from the Crusader and Ragnarok, Alexander the Knight was formed. If one were to join part of Unicorn, Kirin, and Seraphim together, Alexander the Armor would be seen. The third form of the constellation was a mystery. Many books claimed that the third form of Alexander really existed but only at one time. After the War of the Magi, the night sky changed so drastically that the stars have been misaligned. Some were missing, while newer ones emerged. The drastic change had made the visual identification of the third form impossible. Astronomers tried in vain to remap the constellations from old texts. The more they tried, the more they became convinced that Alexander the Tower was nothing but a myth.

Jasom was no astronomer, but that didn't stop him from trying to find the missing form using only his imagination. He had come up with a few possible theories of his own. He reviewed his favorite in his mind. If only the Fenris constellation wasn't in the way, and if one were to borrow certain stars from Titan, Bismark and Ramuh, and fill the Void with well placed imaginary stars, then--

_The Void. Where is the Void?_ Jasom thought as he looked for a distinct spot in the sky where no heavenly body shone. He recalled his star map from memory. _South of Bismark, east of the Terrato's tail, north of the Crusaders, and west of Alexander the Knight._ Jasom looked carefully and identified the familiar constellations. Try as he might, he could not find the Void. Instead, three unidentified stars shown in perfect equidistant formation where the Void was supposed to be.

_Odd. I've never noticed those three before._ Though not many imaginative minds could make up creative constellations with just three stars, the 'Triangle in the Void' seemed to be demanding their own identity by their mere presence.

"What are you going to do now?" Stromsburg asked, breaking the silence.

"Me?" he chuckled. "I absolutely have no idea. But I do know that I wouldn't want to be the bearer of bad news to the Empire. They'd kill me."

"I thought as much," Stromsburg muttered. "We're exiles. I should've joined my son."

Jasom sat up and looked at her thoughtfully. "Celes showed me the uglier side of the Empire. Joining the rebels is beginning to sound like a good idea to me."

It was then that Celes decided to speak. 

"Traitor! I ought to kill you right now!"

The two of them got up on their feet and faced her way. They saw her dismounting her chocobo. 

"Celes?!" Stromsburg said in disbelief. 

"General! But... how?!" Jasom's eyes and mouth were wide open. They looked like they had seen a ghost.

Celes stood before them alive and well... and very wet. Her hair hung flat and limp. She didn't wear her disguise. She shivered slightly in the night breeze. 

"I know how to save the villagers," she announced, not wasting any more time.


	26. Too Easy

**Too Easy**

Maranda: Day Thirteen of the Celestial Rise. Again.

And so I torched a Lantern Village. No need to interrogate them. No need to take them prisoners. All men, women and children were rounded up like cattle, locked up in their town hall, and set aflame. I was on-stage performing a show. The audience applauded but did not have the slightest idea that I just performed a magic trick. And like a magic trick, it was best to leave before the trick became stale.

With my plan, I was able to save them all. The mayor was right. Most of the villagers didn't fight back. Those that did only did so in self-defense. My orders to take everyone alive stuck to the minds of Llurd's troops. I knew that they were reluctant to comply, but Llurd was not the type of fool who would needlessly disobey me in spite.

Admittedly, my discovery of the village secret was a fortunate accident. I haven't an explanation as to the cause of my passing out. The fall was familiar. It was like that in my dreams when the floating island of the swirling realm shattered beneath my feet. I felt weightless, yet plummeting.

The fall is the end of my dreams. I always wake up after the fall, preventing me from seeing what happens next. I awoke, with fresh water stinging my eyes. I swam to the surface immediately, burdened by my loose cloak. After taking a gasp of fresh air, I took the cloak off so I could swim more freely. The water was not violent at all.

My disorientation went away. I started to think of a plan to get myself out of the well. At first, I thought it unnecessary to 'look around' for I was expecting nothing but a narrow circular wall around me. To my surprise, I found my self in an open chamber underground. Everything looked natural--the water, the cavern walls, and small stalactites. All natural except for the floating lanterns on buoys. The buoys formed a straight line on the water, serving as guide beacons. All I had to do was follow them.

The lanterns led me to an excavated part of the underground river. I found small boats secured on posts. It was an underground dock. I got out of the water and onto the dock. It felt like I was in the basement of a large building. The damp air was quickly replaced by a stronger odor that was normally sensed in the open air. There I saw the village's treasure--wheat ready for distribution.

They came in sacks and wagon full. Most of the wheat still in great mounds beside a row of open chutes coming from above. I knew immediately where I was. Judging from the size of the basement, I was under the town hall. It explained many things. The ramp, the wide double doors, the concentration of dropped wheat in the area around the well. More importantly, the missing granaries or wheat storage above ground.

I was in their underground granary!

Wagons full of threshed wheat are rolled inside the town hall and fed down the chutes. From here, the wheat are bagged and marked. As I read the markings on the sacks, I noticed that they were all bound for Maranda mainland.

The village kept their treasure well. An underground storage out of sight of raiders. With it, a greater secret--an underground river flowing south. The boats indicated normal wear and tear. They must've ferried their goods miles down the river to another secret location, no doubt, closer to Maranda. Quite possibly, the river ended in the South Sea where a Maranda trading fleet would be waiting.

I wondered then if Maranda chose the village because of their wheat or their secret passage that might be useful in the future for whatever the reason. I really didn't care.

Behind the mountain of wheat, I saw stairs leading up a closed trapdoor. I surmised that the trapdoor would be secured and disguised from above to avoid detection. If so, I had no way of getting out of the basement.

Luckily for me, several village peacekeepers opened the only trapdoor... with swords drawn. They came for me. I knew that they meant to kill me to keep their secret safe. Funny how that works. I risked my life to save theirs, and there they were, intent upon keeping their secrets by all means necessary.

But they had to find me first. Eluding them took very little effort. A magic word and several silent steps. I was outside shortly. Invisibly, I went back to the mayor's house where I had a less-than-cordial chat with himself and his sons. I told them of my plan, rode out, caught up with Jasom, and sent Stromsburg back to the village to make sure that the plan goes perfectly the day after.

Her job was to make sure that the trapdoor and chutes were opened and cleared by the time I had rounded everyone up inside. They'd find a way out eventually. They'd--

"General! General, come in!" Jasom said through the radio in a loud, urgent whisper. I could hear the roaring of the flames with his voice.

"This is General Chere. What is it?" I asked through the secure channel.

"General, we have a problem. Llurd's men missed two. A woman and her baby. They hid in their house but got discovered afterwards."

I stopped my Magitek Armor and asked, "What's Llurd doing about it?"

"He ordered them to be locked up in the mayor's house. They're gonna burn everything down in the village! They--"

I cut Jasom off and immediately switched to another channel. "Colonel Llurd, come in!" I called as I turned my Magitek around.

He answered promptly, "This is Llurd. I copy you, General."

"What are you still doing in that village?" I demanded, sounding irate.

"Just following your orders, General. We found two more of them. Who knows how many more there are? I didn't wanna take chances so I ordered all houses burned down."

I gritted my teeth in anger and cursed. I made sure he didn't hear it, however. "Order your men to move out, Colonel," I barked, trying not to sound upset with his initiative. "Don't waste any more time in that village. We're done!"

"But--"

"But what, Colonel? I gave you a direct order. Now move out!" I yelled harshly. I parked my Magitek Armor behind a hill, just out of their sights. Llurd answered a short while later.

"We're moving out, General. Over."

With that I turned back to the secure channel. "Jasom! Answer me, Jasom!"

"General? I copy, General. Over!"

"Llurd's men are moving out. Find a place to hide and stay there. I will be there shortly. Do you copy?"

"I understand, General!"

I jumped off my Armor and ran towards the village as fast as I could. When I was far enough from the Magitek Armor that radiated magical energy signatures, I cast Invisibility upon my self.

_I guess I spoke too soon._

* * *

With the sun set in slumber, the darkness between trees and all that stood reigned, defied only by the firelight of the burning houses. The soldiers were gone. I stood alone in the middle of the burning houses, searching for the mayor's house. One would think it'd be easy. But when landmarks were set in flames, my sense for survival kicked in to muddle my judgment.

The houses all looked the same. How could that be? The mayor's house was so much bigger! How--

"General!"

It was Jasom, coming out of his hiding place.

"Where?!" I asked. He responded simply by pointing to a house. The flames clung to the sides, racing for the roof.

"It's too late! We can't--"

I didn't want to hear it. It was far too obvious. But I came too far to be beaten in this game of snipe hunting. I ran towards the front door, refusing to acknowledge the barrier of fire.

_It's only superficial,_ I thought to myself. _The fire is still only outside. It did not start inside. There is hope!_

As I got nearer the front door, I saw the long piece of lumber used to barricade it from the outside. It was placed there by Llurd's men to prevent the people inside from escaping. The barricade itself was already being consumed by the flames. It shouldn't be as strong as it originally was.

"General!" Jasom shouted from behind. It was a futile attempt to convince me that it was madness.

I ran faster, knowing what I had to do to gain access. I needed to break the barricade and force the door open. Hopefully, the fire had consumed enough material to weaken the structure. I felt the heat grow in intensity exponentially as I got closer. I ignored it.

_Pain is only temporary--just like my death._

Crack! I heard it the barricade split as I kicked it with my booted foot. The force, however, was not enough to open the door. A second charge was needed. I retreated. The extreme heat stung my face and eyes. Blindly, I moved away from the house. I staggered and fell on my knees, rubbing my eyes. I prayed for rain. The sky gave me the next best thing.

In an instant, I was drenched in cool water. I opened up my eyes and saw Jasom holding an empty bucket.

"Are you all right, general?!" he asked above the roaring of the flames.

"I have to get inside!" I cried. I pushed myself up and ran towards the door again. The water helped me endure the heat a little better. I slammed my shoulder against the door. Not only did it open, it also came off its hinges. I fell inside clumsily, feeling the heat overwhelm me again. The heat forced my eyes shut again.

I heard a scream--mine.

I willed my body to move further in. I knew that there had to be a pocket of cooler air inside. A wall stopped me from going any farther. I opened my eyes and saw nothing but smoke. I dropped on all fours and crawled, recalling the floor plan from memory. The house shook for a few horrifying seconds. I heard the windows shattering. The front side of the house had collapsed taking away one of my exits. I heard a scream again. It was somebody else's.

I continued to crawl, ignoring the pain. I tried shouting to let the terrified woman know that help was coming, but the smoke got the better of me. I started to cough.

The house shook again. Another wall was on the verge of collapse. Which one? I had no way of knowing. My lungs burned and my eyes were useless against the smoke building up in the room. My body ached all over.

Another thundering crash confirmed the collapse. The floor tilted and cracked. It felt like the Abyss had opened its maw and was drawing me inside. I held onto something--the leg of a dining table. It was sturdy enough to support my weight. Unfortunately, the floor continued to tilt steeper. The furniture around me started to slide and fall towards the hole that I could not even see.

Everything was happening too quickly. The pain restricted my movement. I had no choice but to fall in with the rest of the objects. It was a rough fall. I fell on top of something hard. I felt and heard the sickening sound of ribs breaking. On top of that, a heavy object struck my head.

_Too fast..._

I could not recover. I felt my body being torn apart from the outside as well as the inside. I could not get up.

"Heal," I whispered. It was all I could muster.

I felt no change. Perhaps the magic was too weak for the damage that I had sustained. Perhaps it was all too late. I was numb. My sight was leaving me.

"Heal..."


	27. The Breach

**The Breach**

"Stay with me, Celes!" Leo pleaded with me. "Stay with me!" His voice sounded odd as if it was coming from the bottom of a well. The world around me grew silent and slow. Eyes were around me. I could feel them. My skin felt the coldness of the air. It was the kind of feeling felt by those who were just about to grow completely numb.

I was drowning in my own blood with every breath I took. I could not move my lower body. The dagger that pierced my flesh had also severed my spinal cord. My sight was fading slowly, dwindling with my failing pulse. Leo held on tightly, but no mortal hands could prevent me from slipping away.

And then, I was falling. Weightlessly falling... drifting... dying.

_So this is death,_ I mused calmly. _Just a place that takes away the worry. It's not so bad._

_"And why should death be a bad thing, Child?" a scolding Voice asked me. "Is it not considered among mortals as the Final Rest?"_

"The moment of attestation of the greatest question of your kind, nothing more," added an amused Voice, sounding neither reprimanding nor comforting.

"Only you don't get to share it with your kin," said the scolding Voice again.

"Tonight is an exception, is it not, Sisters?" a gentle Voice answered.

"'Tis not!"

"A Sacrifice."

"A Compromise."

"The mortal belongs to me!"

"I belong to no one," I answered. I could've sworn that I shouted it. But my own voice only came out as a soft whisper.

The swirling realm of black, white and gray made me dizzy. The floating islands were whole again. I was standing on what appeared to be the center of it all. I saw no monolith this time. I saw no sword or runes. It was just me, standing before the presence of the Voices as if in a trial.

Confusion, anger and fear seemed to be unwelcome in the plane. I felt none of those emotions.

_"The mortal is right. We cannot make a claim yet," said the second Voice._

"She is here. This is our realm!" replied the scolding Voice.

"She is not to stay here as was agreed on," the last Voice said.

I had numerous dreams about this place in the past. Each time, the Three Voices spoke in unison. This time was different, however. They seemed to be in disagreement... and I was the reason.

"I do not belong here," I said.

_"True enough!" _the Voices answered together. The union didn't last.

_"She must cross over now before he comes for her!" _the first Voice argued.

"She must stay. We should not give her up!" the second Voice said.

_"No, Sisters. She must return,"_ the last Voice said with calm finality. I liked her most among the Three.

_"Are you mad? They are weak!"_

"Only their bodies. Each has the potential to be great in spirit."

"And this Child shows promise."

"_A lot of good it did us to trust these mortals!"_

"The fault was ours. We have not completely severed our ties with their realm."

"This time is different. She will aid us."

"What would you have me do? Do I not get a choice in the matter?"

_"Indeed! You choose one--"_ they began to say in unison, but their last words for the sentence were different.

"--_Death."_

"--Life."

"--Rebirth."

Being a human devoid of negative emotions, I was only left with logic to decide. Death did not scare me. I rejected it only because it didn't seem logical. Life was the logical choice. Why not? I had clung to it for as long as I could and was quite comfortable with the idea of being alive. However, curiosity tugged at my mind.

"What is rebirth?" I asked.

_"The door to the culmination of your truest potential," _the gentle Voice said.

"Should I choose it?" I asked.

_"The mortal relinquishes to us the decision?"_

"No. She asks for advice."

"Child, we cannot choose for you."

"I just need to be certain."

_"'Tis a human need."_

"This Realm is impartial to mortal needs."

"Your choices are all wrought with uncertainty."

"I do not wish to go back to the troubles of my previous life."

_"Then Death is your escape."_

"But I wish to live again," I said.

"_Then Life is your logical choice. You continue where you left off."_

"There is much that I did not know when I was alive. Much that I did not understand. I want to discover them. I need strength to discover them."

_"Then embrace your rebirth," the gentle Voice whispered._

A bright light appeared in front of me. I was powerless to close my eyes or look away. I was forced to stare at it. The intensity stung. It felt as if my head was about to explode.

_"He comes!" the scolding Voice said._

The mysterious light source split the empty space in front of me. It grew larger each second. The rift opened into a perfect circle before me. It was a window to another world--mine!

Through the small window, I could see familiar faces. Cid, Kefka, Leo... I saw my lifeless body on what appeared to be an operating table. The dagger that killed me protruded from my belly still.

"What is going on?" I asked... in fear. The primal emotions were overtaking me. The realm was losing its calming effect on me.

_"Choose quickly, Child!" the Voices said in unison._

"I still don't know what you would have me do? What do you want from me?"

The rift continued to grow as if ready to swallow me whole.

_"Rebirth is your key to understanding. Do you choose it?"_

Panic followed confusion. I was afraid and the widening rift was a reasonable cause for alarm.

"I don't know!" I shouted. "I want to know what's going on!"

_"So be it!"_

The rift stopped growing when it was about ten feet in diameter. The circle was framed by a bright halo with snaking bolts of lightning. It wasn't just a window to my world any more. Now, it was a doorway. I saw a group of spellcasters. Kefka was in the middle. The mages were robed and hooded. I could not see their faces. They were chanting continually. Energy poured from out of their mouths and held the rift open.

Kefka saw me. He was grinning. His face sent chills up my non-existent spine. _How could he see my ethereal soul?_

Kefka's smile vanished from his ugly face. A silhouette of grander being appeared between us. It was a woman--no three! Three feminine ghostly figures hovered before Kefka, all of them occupying the same space.

They were the Three. Because of the bright light and the converging figures, I was not able to make out each their true form.

"_Behold, mortal!" _the Three said together._ "She is the instrument of our vengeance, and the omen your fate! Turn away from your foolish quest, and we promise you swift, painless death. Pursue it, and you shall be cast down into the Realm of Eternal Agony."_

"Never!" Kefka shouted defiantly.

What happened next, transpired too fast. I felt my being enveloped by magical energy coming from the rift. I felt a similar but different energy hold me back for a split second before they let go. I felt myself hurtle through the rift at a frightful speed.

Pain filled my being the next second. The swirling realm was gone. The rift was shrinking quickly. I was surrounded by the cult, and was suddenly too weak to move.

A literal gut-wrenching pain followed as one of the fanatics pulled the dagger from my flesh. The chanting of the fanatics changed quickly. Warmth slowly enveloped me. It pushed away the pain though it did not drive away the lethargy. I knew my wound was closing magically. I felt my organs mend themselves. The spine that was severed by the blade was once again whole. I began to feel the rest of my body though I was not able to move them.

I felt a jolt coming from inside my chest. It was my heart. It was followed by three more. My lungs heaved, forcing me to take in a huge breath of air. I coughed though the lungs did not stop from taking air in. I was choking. My heart jerked inside again in irregular heartbeats. My body was in shock.

My whole body started to jerk in violent spasms. The fanatics had to hold me down lest I fall off the operating table. I threw my head to the side and vomited blood. It seemed to have cleared my air passage. I began to breathe more normally. My heart started to calm. I felt my pulse in several different parts of my body. I could hear them in my ears.

The spasms went away. My body was limp again. My heart and lungs functioned normally now. My nerves started to pick up the sensory perceptions that they were meant to detect. I felt the water from the emergency sprinklers hit my face. I smelled the sickly odor of my own blood. I began to have control of my own eyes again. The first thing that caught my attention was the closing rift. The diameter was only about a foot now, hovering eerily above me.

A column of intense energy shot from the other side of the rift and struck me. I was covered in a bluish aura. It was deja vu. It was as if it happened to me before a long time ago. I felt oddly homesick.

The magical energy that was building up in me detonated in a violent burst of blue-white light. I heard crashing noise all around me. Then there was silence. The chanting of the fanatics stopped. The water sprinklers ceased. The room was awfully cold all of a sudden.


	28. Zero Casualty

**Zero Casualty**

Cold as ice.

I came to hearing the muffled roaring of the fire above me.

I rolled off something hard with a groan. I felt pain on my back but it was minor. My broken ribs were mended magically. It seemed that my spell worked after all.

I looked around me. The main floor boards had collapsed into the basement on one side only. I was at the lowest end. The floor now looked like a ramp. Above me was a tangled mess of wooden beams and supporting structures. Some where once part of the wall. Others were part of the roof. I was surprised to see that the fire was partly extinguished. Though I still felt the heat, it was a lot more humanly tolerable. My lungs were clear. I was breathing fresher air that must've come from the basement.

I stood up slowly, wary of broken bones. I had to push broken furniture aside. They felt cold to the touch and I pondered on it momentarily. There was something odd about my immediate surrounding. The heap of broken furniture seemed to have a glossy look to it. It was difficult to determine exactly since the light provided me was coming from the red flames above.

I picked up a piece of wood which was once the leg of a chair. It, too, was cold and covered with the same sheen. I doubted very much that it was varnish. It was then that I noticed that my hands glowed a faint but distinct shade of blue. Frost covered my clothes.

_Ice!_

Everything close to me was covered with ice. The air itself seemed to succumb to the coldness. I blew a puff of breath in front of me and saw it materialize, only to disappear the next second.

_But how? I didn't have that magical infusion yet._

I was not one to complain. The magic saved my life. But I could also feel the magical energy seeping out of my being quickly. Within minutes, I knew that I would not be able to hold the heat and the fire at bay. Not to mention that I was still very much in danger. I saw no immediate exit. And though the fire would not be able to touch me for a few given minutes, it still consumed much of the inflammable materials above me. The moment those beams and wooden structures gave way, I would be crushed.

I heard a cough from behind me. Turning around I saw the arm of a woman sticking out of the heaped mess. The arm moved weakly, trying to push aside a broken beam.

"Help me!" she cried hoarsely.

I hurried over to her side and pulled on the beam. It tossed it aside revealing the woman to me. She was bleeding, her left arm still cradling her baby that didn't seem to be conscious.

I did not wait another second. "Heal!"

The woman's wounds closed. Her breathing eased a little. Blood was still visible on her forehead and arms but they were now just traces of something that was much worse. The baby did not move.

"My b-baby!" she cried shivering uncontrollably. The cold aura surrounding me affected her much, but it couldn't be helped.

I placed my hand around the neck of her child feeling for the pulse. He was alive. The pulse was strong. The baby started to shiver at my touch. I recoiled my hand quickly.

"He's alive! Do you know a way out of here?!" I shouted.

The mother pointed up. Though half of the house had collapsed, the other half still remained strong. The fire probably didn't burn as furiously on the other side. But that wouldn't last very long. We had no time to waste.

"Follow me!" I yelled and the mother nodded, shivering still. The tears on her face seemed to have frozen, too. My aura was definitely stronger than I thought. Though I was unaffected by the freezing cold, those around me weren't as protected from it. It added to the weight of our situation. I worried that if the fire didn't kill her, then the cold certainly would.

To get out of the basement we had to climb back up the main floor that now looked like a large ramp. It was not steep enough to be impossible to climb. However, ice covered the surface which made it really slippery. I started to pile broken furniture on ramp hoping to create a stable enough heap to hold onto as we climbed it. I went first.

Upon reaching middle of the ramp, I stopped and signaled for the mother to follow me. It proved to be impossible for her to move for she was carrying her child with her.

"Give me the baby!" I shouted. She seemed to like that idea. She started to climb as high as she could and when she couldn't go any farther, she offered her child for me to take.

I reached down carefully and took the baby in my hands. The baby regained consciousness the moment I touched him. He started to cry and struggle. My hands were too cold and there was nothing I could do.

_Unless..._

I released the magical aura. I felt it disperse around me. The baby relaxed a bit but did not cease to cry. The mother climbed quickly until she reached my level. She took her baby from me and cradled him protectively.

As sudden as my aura had disappeared, a wave of heat descended upon us. Tolerable at first, inhumanly unbearable the next second. With the barrier that kept it away gone, the air under the great umbrella of fire grew hotter in an alarming rate. The ramp and the furniture ignited in flames. I had no choice but to call the nullifying energy once more.

I held up both arms in the air as if to stop the roof from collapsing on top of us.

"Ice!" I cried.

There was a bright blue-white flash of light. The ramp we stood on shook a bit. A blast of cold air pushed up. Frost flew from my hands, extinguishing the fire directly above us. The intense heat was gone. I heard the baby cry again. The mother was stooped over her child, covering him from both the heat and the cold.

The rest of the climb was impossible to do without the help of something that would act as stepping stones. The surface was far too slippery. I drew my sword and with all my strength, plunged it into the floorboards. I used it as the stepping stone that I needed to get to the leveled floor above.

I pulled myself up and told the mother to do the same. Again there was the same problem with her carrying her child.

"Give him to me!" I said. The child may get hurt at my touch, but at least he would live. The mother knew this. She obeyed.

She raised her child up as high as she could. I did my best on my end, reaching down. The baby was still a few inches from my grasp.

"Higher!" I shouted.

It was answered by a splintering sound right on top of us. We both looked up and saw a vertical support was about to crack under pressure.

"Hurry!" I shouted. The mother was crying harder than ever but at least she wasn't panicking. I was pretty sure that at that time we both had longer legs or arms. Or that the baby was a bit older. Or that she had one more thing to step onto. It was a moment of wishes and despair.

"Take my baby!" she cried.

"I'm trying!" I shouted back. "Toss him up!"

The mother's eyes widened in horror. She recoiled to embrace her child, and then she looked at me, shaking her head vigorously.

"I'll catch him. I promise! It's the only way!"

The mother wailed louder. She knew truthfully that it was the _only_ way. "Do it now! Please! The roof is going to collapse on top of us!"

The mother heaved a deep breath and gathered up all her remaining strength. I readied myself. Not only did I have to catch the baby, I needed to do it the right way, too. I couldn't very well catch the baby on his head. Even catching him by a limb would not be the best scenario for I could break his weak bones. I needed to do it with both hands.

The woman knew this as well. She held her child carefully by the armpits. She judged the weight of her child with a few mock tosses. When she was about ready to toss the child up in the air, the ramp she was on fell two feet.

"No!" I cried. I was only thankful that it didn't fall all the way down. "Hurry up!"

The mother obeyed. She tossed her baby up in the air. I my fingers touched his arms. It was not enough. The child fell back down. The mother deftly caught him. She tried again, higher this time. I was able to catch him this time by his arms. I pulled him up quickly and placed him safely on the level floor which was a lot more stable. I turned towards the mother again. She was already making her way up by using my sword as a stepping stone.

It was when the beam above us split. The house shook and the roof dropped five feet. I grabbed baby and protected him from falling objects with my body. It was more of a reflexive move than a logical one. My effort would've been in vain if the whole roof did fall. Fortunately, it held for possibly a few more seconds.

The mother screamed from below us. I looked down again and saw that the ramp was no more. It had completely collapsed down there. The mother was on the ground unable to pick herself back up. She looked like she was in pain. She must've broken something.

I saw no way for her to get back up, but I refused to give up.

"Heal!" I shouted. Whatever was broken in her was fixed again. I would need her alive and well to be able to come up with a plan to get herself out.

The mother did not get up, however. She just stared at me with pleading eyes. At first I thought she wanted me to do something to save her. It was only when she spoke that I understood.

"Get out and save my baby!"

"No! I will get the both of you out!" I shouted back.

"Please! Take him someplace safe first!"

We both heard the roof above us crack again. It was my cue to favor logic. I stood up, cradling the wailing baby in my arms and ran towards the part of the house that was a bit more stable. It was hotter up on the level floor.

I called upon the magical energy again. "Ice!"

The air around me dispersed the heat. The flames retreated. I looked for an exit. I saw the backdoor just beyond a small kitchen. I dashed for it.

"Ice!" I cried again to extinguish the fire that was consuming the door and its frame.

I was about to kick the door open when it fell inward. I had to step aside, turning to protect the baby wailing in my arms. A man stood at the doorway, blocking our exit. At first, I thought it was Jasom. He looked like one of the farmers of the village by the clothes that he wore. But there was something about him that made me believe he was not of this place. His face looked very foreign. The lack of good lighting made me unsure of the color of his eyes. He had a beard. It was a pitiable growth as if he had only decided to wear one two days ago and was unsure about it. He wore a blue bandana on his head. His hair was either dark gray or dark brown. It was hard to tell. He was drenched from head to toe as though he had intended to enter the blazing furnace on his own.

He looked at me in perplexity. It was only then that I noticed him carrying a weapon--a dagger on his belt.

"Are you hurt?!" he asked me above the roaring flames. He had a northern accent.

I held out the baby. "Take him from me! Cover him in something warm!"

He took the crying baby from me without hesitation. He had leather gloved hands--skintight. I turned around to help the mother. His hand caught me by my shoulder.

"Where are you going?!" he demanded.

"There's a woman trapped in there!" I answered.

He tightened his grip on my uniform and started to pull. "I don't think so! Too dangerous!" he shouted.

I shrugged his hand off and gave him a cold and dangerous look. He knew then that I was beyond reasoning. He knew then that I was determined to save the woman or die trying.

"Leave! But if you want to help, find me a rope!"

I turned and ran. Returning to the edge of the hole of the main floor, I leaned to look. The woman was in a corner, terrified and crying. Her arms covered her head as if expecting the whole house to come crashing down on her any second now. The air around her grew hotter again in my absence. The fire was making its way down again.

"Ice!"

The air, again, became tolerable. The woman felt it. She looked up at me and started shouting, "My baby!"

"He's safe!" I shouted back. It seemed to give her great relief. I thought it odd for a moment how one could possibly think about somebody else at what could possibly be their last moment in life.

_Odd, Celes?_ I thought._ Why exactly are you here in this inferno?_

I looked around me for something that I could use to pull her out. I saw none. The remaining furniture were far too short for her to step on to give her the boost she'd need.

"Look for something to step onto," I instructed.

She looked around her frantically. From where I was, I couldn't see anything down below that might've been of any use. The ramp had totally collapsed crushing most everything there was.

I did not hear him coming from behind which brought about my surprise when I heard him shout a pain-filled cry of a name.

"Rachel!"

The stranger leaped off the edge and down to the basement. The man landed agilely on his feet, next to the woman. The man said something to the woman. I could not hear what it was exactly, but the woman nodded in response. Then, the man knelt down on one knee, offering the other for the woman to step on. His hands supported hers up. I read the plan quickly and positioned myself at the edge of the hole.

The woman stepped on the man's left shoulder. Very slowly, the man stood up, lifting the woman off the ground. The two struggled for balance for a few seconds. She was hesitant to stand up on the man's shoulders for fear of falling.

"It's okay! Throw yourself up and catch my hand!" I cried.

She took one look up at me and kicked hard. The man stumbled from the force. Her hands reached for mine in the air. I caught her with one hand. She held on to it with both of hers. The man stood up again and pushed her feet up. My second hand held onto hers. I pulled with all my strength.

"General!" I heard Jasom shout from behind me.

"Over here!" I shouted. Jasom hurried to my side and helped me pull the woman up. The house shook and the roof structure dropped down another three feet. "Ice!" I shouted. "Jasom, get her out of here!"

They obeyed without question. I turned my attention back down to the basement. "Mister! You're a very brave man, but foolhardy!" I started to say as the thought had occurred to me that the situation hadn't changed at all. He, however, was nowhere to be seen. "Mister?!" I shouted.

_Where in Terrae...?_

There was a loud crack from above. I looked up and my jaw dropped as I saw the stranger hovering above me.

_How the devil...?!_

He was fumbling with something on his belt. He muttered a few colorful curses to himself. I heard a click and he fell almost right on top of me. I was stunned momentarily, still trying to figure out what had just happened. He grabbed me by the wrist and urged me to run with him to the exit.

The roof crashed down right after we had left the bad half of the house. It took down other parts of the house. A wooden beam blocked our exit. It burned furiously.

I extinguished the fire with a word of command. I expected the man to be surprised at the magical display but he remained reserved. The fire was gone but the beam was still in the way. It was big enough to effectively block our exit. There was no way around it. No way to squeeze through the space.

The bad half of the house continued to collapse taking down the rest with it slowly. We had to move again. Whenever we entered a new area of the house I used my magic to drive away the heat and flames. The man pointed to a window. Broken pieces of glass littered the floor close to it. It was our only exit.

"You first!" the man insisted.

I did not argue with him. I jumped out. Being on level ground, the fall was short. Picking myself up, I waited for him to follow.

He did not.

"Mister!" I shouted, looking back through the window. I saw a dark figure there. I knew it was him, but he was just standing there. "What are you waiting for? Get out of there!"

Smoke billowed out of the window. I lost sight of the stranger. I started to cough. From around the corner, I heard Jasom crying out my name. I took one last look inside and then ran around to the other side of the house.

Jasom saw me round a corner and sighed in relief. He pulled me away from the burning house as if afraid that I might decide to go back inside again.

"Did you see him? Where is he?" I asked.

"With the mother," he answered, pointing to the baby in his mother's tight embrace.

"No. Where's the stranger?"

Jasom looked at me, puzzled. "What stranger?"

The house groaned and crashed for the last time. With the fire unhindered by my magic, it consumed everything there was to consume. The three of us looked at it burn down completely. The mother sobbed though she had no more tears to cry. Her son was safe, crying and kicking. I felt dizzy. Jasom caught me and gently laid me down on the ground.

"Can I get you anything, general?" he asked me.

I closed my eyes in exhaustion.

"Water," I said. "Find us water."

"Thank you, miss. You saved our lives!" the mother said.

I opened my eyes and turned my head to look at her. "It was the least that I could do, Rachel."

The mother blinked in confusion. "Rachel? My name is not Rachel, miss."


	29. Morning Fire

**Morning Fire**

"You did the right thing," Guardian said.

"Go to hell!"

"It was a necessary evil. Do not feel guilty for what you did. You weren't given much of a choice. Your survival ensures the survival of millions. Sacrifices have to be made," Guardian rationalized.

"You do not get to appoint the sacrificial lambs!" I retorted.

"Indeed!" she agreed with me. "Circumstances--"

"Don't give me that crap! For as long as I can help it, there is always a way around things."

Guardian was silent for a few seconds. "What do you mean?"

I grinned inwardly, staring at the monitor before me in the privacy of my own quarters. "You didn't think it was possible, did you? That those people could be saved!"

"I am confused. The reports said that you ordered everybody killed and the village burned down."

I scoffed at the exaggeration. "I ordered their deaths all right. It was one heck of a magic trick!"

"You mean... you somehow made Llurd and his men think that you killed all the people? How did you do it?"

I smiled in the dark and revealed to her the trick.

"Commendable!" was all she could say. It didn't matter. I didn't want her praise.

"You owe me," I said dourly.

"Indeed, I do," Guardian answered. "What secret do you wish to be revealed to you tonight?"

I paused to think. There were many secrets I would like revealed to me. I didn't know where to begin until tonight after the burning. One question stood out from the rest. I admitted to myself that it was not the most important question to ask. But I had to know.

"When did Cid infuse me with the Ice magic?" I asked.

"Infuse with Ice magic?" Guardian repeated in puzzlement. "Do you not get it yet, Celes? Hasn't the investigation of Branford's past taught you anything?"

"Straight answers, Guardian! I've earned this. Do not mar it with your riddles."

"Branford was able to use Fire magic without the need for infusion."

"I said straight answers. Damn it! When did Cid infuse me with the Ice magic?"

"The question does not apply. He never did."

The answer took me aback. "Then who?"

"Nobody."

"Then how was it possible?"

The monitor displayed another recording. It had no audio. It was in a large room with computers. General Cristophe was there. Cid, too, and his staff. On one side of the room, I saw Kefka. The three had their attention focused on the person on the operating table. The camera zoomed in showing my lifeless body on the table. The recording happened after my assassination.

Everybody's focus shifted to the computers all of a sudden. The power went out, but the camera kept on recording. The auxiliary power kicked in seconds later. Kefka and Leo were now having an argument. Things got violent. Kefka sent a bolt of lightning to the computers. The emergency sprinklers turned on. Water rained inside the room drenching everybody.

_Sprinklers. It wasn't a dream._

Leo stepped aside, as did Cid. Kefka and his cult formed a circle with my lifeless body at the center. They started the chant.

"I don't see a rift," I thought out loud.

"Rift?" Guardian repeated questioningly. I ignored her.

The chanting continued. My body was enveloped with a bright energy. A cult member pulled the dagger out of my belly. The white light shifted to a warm yellow aura. My body twitched and jerked sporadically. Then it was over in a second.

I was alive again.

_But the rift. Where is the doorway to the swirling realm?_

The recording continued to play. A bright blue-white light filled the room. Static filled the monitor.

"Ice. I did that, didn't I?"

"Yes."

"So the cult infused me with the magic?"

"Negative."

"Why do you show me this?" I asked Guardian.

"Be patient. There is more."

I waited. The static cleared and the video feed was back online in a matter of seconds. The room had changed. The sprinklers stopped. Everything in the room was frozen. The water had turned to ice. Nobody moved. Everybody was on the floor or slumped over desks or tables. I remained on the operating table.

From a corner of the room, I saw movement. Somebody was getting up. It was Cid. He was shivering. He staggered towards me, felt for my pulse and cried in relief. He hugged me for a long moment. And then, he turned his attention towards Kefka who was lying on the floor unconscious.

The cold inside the room must've been unbearable. He was trembling harder now. His movement was restricted. He bent over to pick up a dagger on the ground. The camera zoomed in. It wasn't the same dagger that had killed me. It must've been from one of the cult members.

Another burst of blue-white light flashed. The burst came from me again. It hit Cid with a force that threw him on the floor. But he refused to lose consciousness. He crawled towards Kefka with the dagger in his hand. From another corner of the room, a cult member stirred to life. He saw Cid and read his ill intentions towards his master. He, too, crawled towards Kefka as if in a race.

Both Cid and the fanatic reached Kefka's unconscious body. Cid raised the dagger with the intent to kill Kefka. The fanatic wrestled with Cid, pushing away the dagger. They were both in weakened state. Cid refused to give up, as did the fanatic. The fanatic threw his whole body on top of his master. At the same instance, Cid brought the dagger down in a plunge.

The dagger bit flesh. Cid lost consciousness finally. The fanatic died. Then there was static once more.

I was speechless at what I saw. Guardian waited for me to ask a question.

"Are you the only one who has a copy of this?"

"Yes," she answered.

"Does Kefka know that Cid tried to kill him?"

"No."

I closed my eyes and sighed in relief. "Destroy it," I whispered.

The screen went blank. "Done," she said in reply.

* * *

Kefka was silent for long moments, pondering in disbelief of the news of the Maranda mission.

"What does it mean, master?" Tayan asked, breaking the silence.

"It means that we are underestimating Subject A. She is not as predictable as we had hoped. This makes me really annoyed," Kefka answered in a frown. Leo's warning was starting to take form.

"Llurd is not pleased," Tayan added.

"I couldn't care any less for that inconsequential desert bug!"

"Forgive me."

"This is not a setback. We proceed according to plan."

* * *

Tomyn arrived at the village in the morning. He had already traveled quite a ways when he saw a distant light from behind him. It was then that he had decided to backtrack.

He was too late. Everything had already burned down. He fell on his knees amidst the smoldering rubble and cried. It was then that he felt a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"You mourn for no one."

Tomyn looked up, surprised. "Mr. Cole! What are you doing here?"

"Investigating," the man answered. "Get up and give me a hand."

Tomyn followed the stranger to what seemed to be the center of the village where a stone well was all that stood. A woman rested there with her sleeping baby. On the ground, around the well were tin buckets and wooden pails a few of which were filled with water. He had found them in the villagers' tool shack.

"Take two filled with water and follow me."

The stranger carried two pails himself and led the way up to one of the rubbles. The building had burned down almost completely. The fired had consumed most of what was there to consume. All that were left were a few scattered fires underneath the ashened heap.

"Where are we going?"

"Looking for the survivors," Mr. Cole answered.

"Have you... found more yet?" Tomyn asked, looking warily at the rubble, fearing that he might see or uncover something that he would not be prepared to see.

"No. But we're getting close."

Tomyn noticed that the path they were taking had already been doused by water. Mr. Cole must've been up all night putting out the fire. Tomyn wondered why he had not given up seeing as the building was completely ruined.

"There," Mr. Cole pointed on the ground where smoke rose steadily still. Mr. Cole emptied his buckets on the spot. Tomyn did the same thing. It took them twelve more trips before they were able to put out the fire completely. It was then that Tomyn was instructed to dig out the spot.

They dug away at the dirt and ash, thick beneath their feet. After about an hour, they uncovered what looked like a trapdoor. The surface of which was scorched. The hinges, however, were still intact. Tomyn and Mr. Cole opened the trapdoor. To Tomyn's surprise, he heard voices.

"Light!"

"Somebody's up there!"

"Save us!"

Mr. Cole and Tomyn assisted in pulling the survivors out of the underground granary. Only a few were injured. Those who were able tended to them the best that they could. Despite the fact that the village was no more, it was great news to him to see that nobody had died. Tomyn had regarded the day to me a day of pleasant surprises. The final surprise of the day, however, was when his own mother emerged from the trapdoor last.

Tomyn and Jennina Stromsburg hugged each other for the longest time.

** End of Finding Sanctuary **

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Dear Melissa B,

As I write this, I'm not even sure if you'll ever get this far into the story. If you do, then I thank you. I thank you for reading my fic. I thank you for helping me complete it.

You may find that last 'thank you' puzzling as you have never proofed, edited, or even communicated ideas with me regarding the fanfic. But little did anybody know that I had almost given up on it. That night, my mouse pointer hovered over the deletion confirmation of EVERYTHING that I had for hours, wrestling with the heavy consequences in my mind. A healthy psyche should never have to consider destroying something I had worked hard for in the name of joy and my only source of pleasure. God knows I have very little to be happy about.

But what can I say? I was depressed. That night, you changed that with a simple 'hello.' Had you waited in the morning to say something, my website and everything in it would've been a memory. I wish for you only the best. Tell Wesley that he's very lucky to have you as his girlfriend.

Yours truly,

Lenny

* * *

Dear D,

Last year, I noticed how our conversations have become more and more one-sided. And though I was not one to express jealousy or envy to those whom you deemed more deserving of your attention, I was one to express concern. Perhaps I was being annoying when I talked to you too much. That our meetings had gotten too old and our sessions were quickly turning into unbearable moments of tedium. That the things I had to share with you no longer interested you. These were things I feared from the start, if you recall, and I warned you about it--begged you to confront me should I start to become a "pest" to you.

But you were too nice and polite to do that. I don't blame you. That's who you are. And me? Well, I still needed to know.

And so I let go and kept silent. Hoping that you would notice. Hoping that you would say something. I hoped that you would bring it up and ask. But you never did.

What was I to think? I had no choice but to come to the conclusion that you didn't want to speak to me again. And when you completely cut me off--what that told me was that I've wronged you most horribly--and I'll never know how. That you're angry at me for something--and I'll never know what or why.

Nothing says it clearer than a whole year of silence. All that I did--the sacrifices, the compromises--concrete, intangible, recognized, thankless--they were not enough to convince you to call me by my real name, let alone earn me the right to call you by yours. My efforts weren't enough to compensate for my flaws and shortcomings. They weren't enough to earn me a friend in you.

Of this, I am truly sorry. Take it as an apology. It's up to you if you wish to accept. Take it as an expression of deep regret. It's up to you if you wish to take satisfaction in it. Whatever you decide, you win again. And as always, I lose.

Icarus soared but got too close to the sun. Perhaps he deserved what happened to him. But I betcha he enjoyed his flight while it lasted. I sure did. Thank you for all the good times.

Goodbye.

Lenny


End file.
